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Northeastern Montothos was a waterlogged wilderness of streams, gullies, and bogs impassible to any but the most determined army. Attempting the nearly impossible feat was a corps of the queen's Wolves led by White Paw. Laboring to tame its trackless wastes, acres of forest were converted into vast fields of stumps to erect bridges spanning small rivers and wooden roads covering soft ground. Having reached the final natural impediment to their forward progress, they undertook their most consequential construction enterprise.

Gone were the native tweets and chirps of small birds, melodious croaking of chorus frogs, and gentle rustling of small mammals. Left in their wake was the irritating drone of hungry insects, a counterpoint to the intruders' destructive melody of thwacking axes and hissing saws. Determined to profit from the unexpected feast presented by the miserable company of Wolf warriors, thick clouds of stinging mosquitoes and biting gnats rose forth endlessly like dark clouds of toxic vapor from the soft turf marred by boot prints and linear gouges that led with military precision to neatly stacked pyramids of logs feeding a primitive, open-air mill.

Intermittent grunts, groans, and the rare shout of command comprised the chorus completing their symphony of toil. Eager to complete their wearisome task, the mostly canine company worked in grim silence. White Paw's promise that this was the last bridge they would be forced to build during their miserable campaign was incentive enough for most to be content; all except one.

"Fuck this stupid bridge!" bellowed Hazard after throwing his axe to pinwheel through the air before sticking blade first in the bole of nearby tree. "We're warriors, not fuckin' bunny woodsmen."

Ever alert for trouble from that particular Wolf, Sergeant Prowler halted his labor in mid swing. His head swiveled on the thick chords of his neck in search of the source of malcontent, though he knew with tiresome familiarity who had spoken and dreaded with equal surety the inevitable quarrel to follow. Onerous though it was, his duty compelled him to silence insubordination before it led to open mutiny. Shouldering his axe, he strode with determination towards the disgruntled troublemaker, who would have been discharged and sent home months ago, if only he wasn't such an accomplished warrior.

Other warriors began to set aside their tools sensing the potential for entertainment to relieve the monotony of their labors. Prowler silently cursed their inactivity. Not only would White Paw be livid over the delay, their rapt attention gave Hazard exactly what he wanted - an audience for his complaints.

"If Hazard wants an audience, he certainly has my attention," thought Prowler as the steel-gray fur on the back of his neck rose in spine like hackles.

The crude expletive that precipitated this latest crisis was one more note in a long refrain of a never-ending, whining ballad from Prowler's one-time friend turned subordinate. Growing up together in the same pack, Prowler had been subjected to Hazard's tirades since long before the rise of White Paw to chief of all chiefs and the subsequent alliance with the Rabbit queen. Prowler knew his pack mate's moods, and since being promoted to sergeant, he had learned when to pretend deafness and when a one-Wolf revolt had reached its tipping point.

The knack for keeping Hazard out of trouble was to let him drink or let him fight, intoxication and battle being the only cures for the malaise that fueled his insubordination. Work details, no matter how grueling, did nothing to tire or abate his restless anger. If only the enemy had not been conspicuously absent from these lands since their departure from River Keep. Only recently, as the chief of chiefs tested fords of the River Ilska, had they encountered any serious resistance. Unfortunately, the resulting small-scale encounters had been brief, futile, and unable to quell Hazard's restlessness.

Each skirmish with the enemy occurred where the river's canyon was shallow. The narrow, turbulent water crossings, with their bridges all in ruins from the winter floods, were easy for the enemy to defend, and thus, were suicide for the Wolves to cross. In his quest for a suitable location to build his own bridge where the enemy would least expect, White Paw posted troops to protect each vulnerable part of their lengthening northern flank and continued to move up river. To universal discontent, that meant constructing spans over every irritating tributary stream along the way. Many in Prowler's platoon, desirous of a chance to fight again or to go home, were beginning to sympathize with Hazard. Timely intervention was essential to preserve order.

"Shut your stupid snout, Hazard, and get back to work!" he ordered when he was within a stride of his truculent pack mate.

The sergeant's command was not delivered solely to Hazard, whose unruly nature effectively nullified all hope for reason, but was also for the benefit of the remainder of his platoon. Hazard would not be satisfied until he believed everyone in the entire company understood and agreed with whatever was on his mind. Since the sentiments he typically expressed flirted with mutiny, a fight for dominance and order was inevitable. Prowler had to undermine whatever sympathy for Hazard's gripe was developing among the other warriors. Bracing for a scrape, he found himself reflecting on the twist of fate that bound him to this troublemaker in this wretched wasteland.

Strong wine and River Keep's stone buildings had made Prowler's initial sojourn among Rabbits an exciting and exotic experience. In the early days of White Paw's alliance with the queen, numerous vacant structures offered private hideaways in which to carouse when not being drilled in the fighting style of Rabbits. Prowler and his longtime pack mates, Black Spot, and Wolverine, had adopted a favored hangout where they were sometimes able to entice females to join them but just as often drank Rabbit wine and wrestled among themselves to pass the time. It was Hazard who had arrived uninvited to their last, fateful drinking binge with the kidnapped bunny doe slung over his broad shoulders like a hunting trophy. Drunk and horny, they were agreeable to take turns with Hazard's prize until the tiger and her pet wolf interrupted.

Without the little bunny's kindness, Prowler was certain that Cat would have killed them or at least delivered them to White Paw and the queen for a similar fate. The unexpected act of mercy from an ancient enemy had a profound effect upon Prowler. An odd, temporary friendship ignited by Wyn's kindness and fervent belief in a supremely benevolent Maker persuaded him to accept her invitation to attend a Shornie religious service.

Much of what the fat Duoma preached was confusing and strange, and Prowler would have abandoned the bizarre cult if he hadn't been the sole male among Dontamethes' dozen Wolf converts. Shaving itched like fleas crawling over his pelt, especially when the fur began to grow back, but the females fought among themselves to share his bed just to see and touch the colorful markings he let them tattoo upon his chest and stomach. If that was part of the Maker's plan, then Prowler was agreeable to let himself be subsumed within the rapturous ecstasy of whatever Olivia willed. It was unfortunate that war interrupted his newfound pious circumstances.

Cat had not spoken in jest when she proclaimed it Prowler and his pack mate's destiny to fight until they died. All four had been assigned to White Paw's army and placed on the front lines of every battle since. Prowler managed to survive despite numerous wounds and desperate skirmishes with Rabbit knights and peasant levies. The ugly, blue-gray bully, Hazard, seemed also immune to death and boasted often of his many new scars in addition to the split ear and missing tip of his tail that he brought with him to Rikifur. Considering the number of narrow escapes both had already experienced, it seemed inevitable that their doom would mirror Wolverine and Black Spot's by preceding the war's end.

Prowler sincerely hoped his dead pack mates were enjoying Blood Paw's company in the afterlife and that he would one day be honored to join them there. Why they died first was a mystery Prowler could not fathom. Neither had been any more wicked than he and certainly weren't as detestable as Hazard. The Maker's motives were evidently as obscure and unknowable as Dontamethes preached, so Prowler didn't question the changes occurring around him, or why he had become solely responsible to fix this one defective warrior.

"I'm sick of this endless war," continued Hazard ignoring Prowler as if rank meant nothing. "Sick of marchin', sick of drillin', and sick of buildin' things."

Prowler was on the verge of clouting the insubordinate idiot. It was the simplest remedy to quiet his noisy snout, but Cats Paw, a short Wolfess with fur the color of tree bark, who was known to mate with Hazard and fight with him just as often, joined the exchange.

"Why are you complaining, you stinking tailhole?" she barked. "Your worthless dick gets more attention here than you ever had back home."

Thoughts of sex were one of the few distractions, other than the balloon fuel he kept in his water pouch, capable of banishing Hazard's discontent. The sole advantage to this war from a male perspective was how valor in battle stimulated the females to lift their tails more often than they otherwise would when home and at peace. The result of the frequent dalliances was a constant attrition of their ranks as pregnant Wolfesses returned to River Keep or the Packlands to bear and raise their pups in safety. A moment of feral pleasure for his own romantic success brought an ephemeral smile to Hazard's snout before his perpetual scowl returned undiminished.

"Yeah, but there's more to life than a steady parade of bitch pussy."

Cats Paw's ears swiveled towards her intermittent mate in astonishment.

"The fuck? Did I hear that right? Hazard wants something besides pussy?"

The crowd of onlookers laughed at the absurd notion. Hazard was undeterred by their derision.

"You did, bunny cunt. How about fishin', huntin', and just layin' around enjoyin' the sun all warm on your fur instead of sweatin' in grimy filth bein' attacked by flies every day all for some little doe that thinks she rules the damn world?"

Hazard's point was surprising well-made and resonated in many sympathetic ears including Prowler's. The duties of their current assignment did nothing to improve morale enervated by what was felt to be an eternal struggle in someone else's war. Building temporary bridges over creeks, streams, and rivers so horses, wagons, and artillery could cross unhindered was work they considered beneath a warrior.

Adding to their discouragement, a canyon over two hundred feet deep and nearly half as wide lay before them barring their passage as effectively as any army. Unlike the watercourses previously spanned, the bridge required for this final obstacle could only be constructed from one side. It had to remain hidden until it was ready and then deployed across the chasm in a matter of hours to prevent the enemy from spotting and destroying it first.

To the warrior Wolves responsible for its construction, it was believed to be an impossible undertaking. Despite assurances and technical explanations from its inventor, the concept of a self-supporting arch bridge made from the local materials was too far beyond most warriors' experience to imagine even now that the structure was complete and concealed behind a camouflaged blind. There was no doubt that if placed across the ravine that it would bear the weight of White Paw's army, but Hazard, and many of his pack mates, simply could not comprehend how the bridge could be moved into place, or they simply refused to try out of lack of respect for its designer, Sparks.

The low status, effeminate warrior had been made an officer by the Rabbit command and promoted to first lieutenant for his engineering skills, an advancement that engendered frequent snarls of resentment from warriors like Hazard who valued traditional methods of achieving dominance. Having heard the fracas, Sparks pushed his way through the crowd of idle warriors and the pawful of curious Rabbit bucks.

"What's the problem, Sergeant Prowler? Why has work stopped?"

"Just a minor disagreement, Sir...," he answered without taking his eyes off Hazard, who didn't have the sense to understand how the situation was beginning to escalate out of control.

"The problem is you, you little whelp," snarled Hazard, "and this nonsense of callin' you sir like you're a chief. As if. Every warrior here is fitter to lead than you. You belong at the bottom of the pack."

"I'm a lieutenant of engineers," countered Sparks pointing to the twin claw insignia stitched onto his jacket. Lacking aggressive conviction, his shrill voice failed to inspire, sounding like a pup's when compared to Hazard's rumbling baritone. "I outrank all of you," he added lamely.

"Not if I beat you senseless you don't."

Hazard lunged at the diminutive lieutenant, but never reached him. Prowler stopped him with a sucker punch, unable to resist driving his fist hard into his reckless pack mate's abdomen. There was no hope it would resolve the crisis, but the action felt good and temporarily silenced the dissenter.

"I said shut it, soldier. The rules have changed. You don't earn your place by fighting anyone but me. White Paw has decreed this, and he speaks for the Maker."

The rage lurking behind Hazard's eyes foreshadowed a challenge fight. Such contests were still allowed between the base warriors and the NCOs, but no further up the chain of command. A victory by Hazard over Prowler would make him sergeant but would not solve the bully's problem. He would still have to answer to Sparks, but the belligerent idiot was too dense to see that. He foolishly thought the old ways still applied.

"White Paw is no better!" bellowed Hazard as he began to slowly stalk and circle in preparation to attack. "It's past time for him to go so we can be true Wolves again."

"And you think you are the one to do that?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"You are the stupidest dog in creation if you don't know the answer. White Paw is like Blood Paw, a hero of legends."

"All I have to do is fight my way up through that weakling, Sparks. That means startin' with you."

"I'm ordering you to back down, Hazard. You can lie in the sun when the war is won. Until then, pick up that fucking axe and put it to work."

"Orders!" spat Hazard. "Whose orders? That flower pickin', horse-tail poundin', little bitch, Sparks?"

The menacing growl welling up from Hazard's chest was a warning. Prowler heeded it but didn't retreat. A good fight was always preferable to honest work anyway, and he had proven himself better than his opponent in every previous match. With his fighting instincts in full gear, Prowler forgot his Rabbit training and began taunting his pack mate.

"You just want Sparks for yourself but can't have him."

Hiking up his kilt and lifting his tail, Prowler exposed his ass and puckered tailhole.

"Well how about this?" he asked slapping his buttock. "Come and get it, bitch."

Fast as a cat, Hazard tackled Prowler from behind. They rolled together across the squishy turf punching and biting until they separated and rose to their hindpaws scratched, bruised, and covered in mud and leaf mold. The mess did nothing to diminish either's aggression, and the rest of the platoon encouraged them with shouts from the perimeter of a challenge circle formed by their bodies. The hapless Sparks found himself trapped within the ring of warriors.

Prowler and Hazard locked together again exchanging punches and grappling to take the other down. Growing steadily in numbers with the addition of members of neighboring work parties, the volume and ferocity of the fight intensified. Lieutenant Sparks worried that White Paw's attention would be drawn.

"Sergeant Prowler!" yelled Sparks. "Stop this fighting. Now!"

Distracted by a direct command, Prowler turned towards the lieutenant and received as his reward a devastating kick to the side of his snout. Reeling away, he spit out a glob of blood, shook his head to clear away the stars, and prepared for the follow on undisciplined punch he knew was coming. Entirely predictable, Hazard was in mid swing with a wild haymaker that Prowler easily caught and stopped with his left paw. With his right, he delivered a series of quick jabs to Hazard's snout then sent him sprawling onto his back with an uppercut to his chin.

Unmoving, the rebel appeared to be unconscious, so Prowler turned and saluted Sparks.

"My apologies, sir. This was just a temporary distraction..."

Deceived by Hazard's act, Prowler was tackled from behind and forced to the ground on top of Sparks. Caught in a chokehold and pinned between his opponent and the helpless, squirming lieutenant, Sergeant Prowler's vision began to dim as Hazard kept pressure on his neck.

It was fortunate that Sparks was a more competent fighter than anyone believed. With paws full of mud, the little Wolf brought his fists hard against the sides of Hazard's head just below his ears stunning him briefly before rubbing the dirty mess into his eyes. The clever move forced Hazard to release Prowler, who threw Hazard off, broke free, and scrambled unsteadily to his hindpaws.

Dizzy from lack of air, the gasping sergeant stumbled about to regain his senses before Hazard recovered an attacked again. When his vision cleared enough to focus on his surroundings, he was startled to find White Paw in front of him with his arm in motion pushing the heel of his palm towards Prowler's face. Cringing, Prowler braced himself for a well-deserved beating, but his chief's paw brushed his whiskers as it continued past to thump between Hazard's eyes.

The belligerent mutineer sneaking up from behind was stunned by the blow but also too caught up in the challenge to quit. He clumsily charged White Paw, who sidestepped easily out of harm's way, hooked one arm around Hazard's neck as he did, and placed his pale paw just above his victim's tail. An invisible electric current was exchanged and Hazard froze as if turned to ice.

Prowler witnessed the feat with fascination. Rumors had circulated that the chief of all chiefs had special Maker given powers. Witnessing the sudden paralyzation of Hazard made him a believer. Instinct compelled him to drop to all fours before one so formidable, but the Rabbit military codes forbade such display, so he saluted instead with his ears flat and his tail quaking between his thighs.

"Explain, sergeant," demanded White Paw.

The chief's voice was calm, but his visage bespoke of an underlying maelstrom awaiting the slightest trigger to unleash its fury. Prowler did not want to be the cause of its release.

"Sss...sorry, sir. This is my...uhm...my fault. I broke disciplinary protocol by engaging this warrior in personal combat to quell his complaints about the conditions, the leadership, and purpose of our mission. It won't be repeated, sir. I..."

"That's enough, sergeant. I know this one's record. You don't need to protect him."

White Paw released Hazard by pushing him down into the mud and holding him there with a boot in the small of his back. He ignored the immobile Wolf and let his gaze sweep around the circle pausing at each warrior as he did. Several lost control and dropped to all fours, but most saluted as they had been taught.

"I hear complaints every day from our kind bemoaning our participation is this war," he began after seizing their rapt attention. "You are far from home fighting in a strange land for a strange purpose using strange weapons. I sympathize with your plight. I am even farther from home, from my pack, from those I love and cherish most, and sundered from the customs that once defined my life, but I am here for a greater purpose than myself just as each of you is here for that same greater purpose - the future of our kind.

"Our days of raids upon each other and the Rabbits are over. The warrior's role has changed forever and can never again be what it was. Our goal is no longer to use battle as a means of gaining social status, mates, and resources. Our goal is to win a peace for our pups in which they can thrive and be more than we ever were. What has the last thousand years of the old ways brought us anyway but oppression and sorrow?"

White Paw motioned for Sparks to come to his side. The grime-covered lieutenant did, and White paw grasped Sparks' slender wrist and thrust his dainty paw high in the air.

"For those of you who question why Lieutenant Sparks is in command of this work brigade, listen well. You have the honor of participating in the most important project to ending this war. The bridge that Sparks has designed and that you are building is the only chance we have of moving this army over that river in time to catch the enemy unawares. It must be done soon or we lose Perseine, and the war will drag on for years. Like much that is new, this contrivance is hard to comprehend. I am going to let Sparks explain it to you one more time, so there can be no doubt in your minds that your labors will benefit you, your family, and your pack."

Sparks cleared his throat and did his best to brush away the filth from his uniform as he carefully and in the simplest terms he could convey described the purpose of the wooden turntable and makeshift crane for rotating and then lowering the bridge to span the gap. The only item left to build was the rail and carriage system to move the assembled bridge in position.

White Paw ignored the engineering lesson having heard it often enough before. The discussion of it and many other details of the spring campaign had dominated his time as he and his Rabbit allies desperately sought a solution to the problem posed by Airy's betrothal to Vaunorthoses and the resultant immediate need to liberate Perseine. To reach that goal, they had to move an army straight up through Segyrseine. Airy and her advisors knew this, but so did the AR, who would be waiting to delay them while leisurely crushing and taking control of Vaun's isolated home province. Speed was essential, but the need for siege engines to retake castle Montethoytos would slow their advance.

The information provided by the renegade priest, Mortdarathos, meant that they were free to move through Montothos and Kryphreine nearly unimpeded, but it did them no good if they could not cross the river Ilska into Kulkynth or Perseine itself. With all crossings destroyed by the winter floods, neither side could hope to move over that natural boundary. Sparks developed a concept for a bridge constructed at a location that the enemy considered impossible to span without months of labor and access to both sides of the river. It gave them the hope of opening a second front against the enemy or even catching them unawares from behind, but it would not avail them if the AR made it to Montethoytos and occupied the fortress first. It was essential they discover a way to pin the AR between that castle and a flanking force.

The answer to their strategic dilemma came from an unlooked for source and began with raised voices outside Airy's war council chamber. The brief disturbance was resolved by Esseff with the admittance of Dawn, the first Wolfess mated to the chief of all chiefs. Due any day to deliver Jak's pup, the copper colored fur of her distended belly preceded her as she waddled up to the table, where Sunorthoses graciously yielded his chair. After a few moments of squirming to make herself comfortable, Dawn stunned everyone with her pronouncement.

"Duke Hrothsthentes wishes to inform the queen that Segyrseine pledges its loyalty, troops, and access to the fortress of Montethoytos. All of its lands are open to Queen Airiphryone and her Wolf allies. He has further committed to deploying his mobile forces to delay the AR's advance so that the queen may reach his castle first."

Like a fairy tale enchantment, her audience was caught immobile as if trapped in a painting. A wry laugh from Sunorthoses broke the spell.

"How on the Maker's good earth did you accomplish that?"

"Oh," remarked Dawn casually, "with a canny blend of diplomacy and feminine charm."

"Wait," sputtered Vaun. "Do you mean...?"

He left the ubiquitous query hanging in the air like the afterimage of lightning in one's eyes. Dawn was delighted to supply the thunder.

"I do mean exactly that. Soon after you assigned me as diplomatic liaison at Montothoytos and returned to River Keep, it transpired that the young duke expressed a peculiar preference for canines to share his bed - every night to be blunt."

Wolves chuckled and slapped their paws on the table, but few Rabbits shared their mirth beyond fits of nervous laughter. Jak, Airy, and Vaun remained impassive, each experiencing the subtle torment of their own triangle of interracial pairing. Sunorthoses was the sole buck able to enjoy Dawn's account.

"Maker knows that in addition to your auspicious pronouncement, we can use a light hearted tale," interjected Sunorthoses. "Please regale us with your story of this seduction."

"I did not intentionally seduce him, at least not at first, unaware as I was of his fetish. I suppose the clues were there, but I was busy adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings and looking after my fellow warriors. The first signal of his intent was his refusal to enforce the local priest's persistent exhortations for Wolfesses to cover our torsos, but the duke's lack of response seemed so rational to me that I was blind to his desire for us to continue to dress as is our want. When on particularly cold days I did cover myself for warmth, he ordered that huge fires be built in every fireplace of the castle. That was a blatant indicator, but I didn't become fully aware of the Duke's infatuation toward breasts, and mine in particular, until after several weeks during which he insisted on speaking to me nearly every day with no obvious motive to his conversation other than to share my company. One day, when he requested that we meet in his solar instead of his throne room, I was prepared and agreed."

"Then what?" urged Sunorthoses.

"Rabbits don't perceive the world the same way we Wolves do. Our sense of smell is very keen. His yearning for me left an unmistakable taste in the air. To him, I was something enticing but also baffling. He was young and inexperienced in the ways of courtship having no idea how to flirt even with his own kind. Since it is quite common among the packs for mature females to initiate young males, I obliged by providing instruction, experience, and confidence. Hrothsthentes was like an orphaned pup, all alone after his mother and father died when he was a kit. His advisors neglected this aspect of his studies. He did not know where to turn for education, so I became his tutor."

The Wolves in attendance continued to listen to her story with amused interest, but Dawn became aware that many of the Rabbits wore expressions of disgust or mortified embarrassment.

"I understand that talk of mating is considered impolite in Rikifur, so I won't expound upon the details of our affair other than to say he was eager to learn what I was delighted to teach. I discovered a few new things myself mostly about Rabbit anatomy."

Sunorthoses was the only buck who didn't breathe a sigh of relief at her restraint.

"If he is so in love with you, however did you get his permission to leave and return here?"

"The advancement of my pregnancy made love play...challenging...especially for one of his inexhaustible ardor, but I successfully argued that I needed to deliver my pup at River Keep for the benefit of its sire, White Paw."

Jak cringed, sensing Airy's resentment. Though Airy no longer held a legitimate claim to the sole possession of Jak's heart or body, she still despised Dawn's intimate relationship with him, and uncontrollable hostility radiated from her detectable to those like Jak who knew its cause. It was a momentary emotional storm that soon passed. That the Wolfess was incontestably a valuable asset helped to tame the dragon of Airy's jealousy enough to soften her demeanor. Sensing the subtle change, Jak addressed the controversial subject.

"Though I delight at the prospect of holding my first newborn pup in the West, there is no requirement among the packs for me to do so."

"A lie, I know," admitted Dawn, "but my request to return here portended a lengthy absence liable to be filled with...frustration for the duke and hence, opportunity for us. He promised me anything in exchange for my speedy return."

"What was it you demanded of him?" wondered Jak.

"His allegiance to the queen, of course."

"You...you initiated that on your own?" sputtered the normally unflappable Sunorthoses.

"I did, and why not? He loves me and wishes to please me. I, in turn, wish to please White Paw and the queen of Rabbits, our greatest ally."

Dawn's cunning brilliance was received with nods of approval and a smattering of light applause initiated by Vaunorthoses.

"Though your methods are certainly... unconventional," said Vaun with a trace of mild embarrassment, "and should probably be kept out of the annals of history, we are in your debt for this fortuitous alliance. Do you agree, My Queen?"

It grieved Airy deeply to speak openly and with praise of Dawn, but the moment required dignity, not the temper tantrum of a love sick adolescent.

"I do," admitted Airy.

Dawn glowed like her namesake, basking in the warmth of Her Majesty's adulation until a clenching spasm in her womb made her groan, grimace, and bend forward to ease the pain. Milikes, sitting to Dawn's right, placed a worried paw on her forearm.

"Are you all right?"

Chuckling through clenched teeth, Dawn nodded.

"As right as possible considering that White Paw's pup is eager to meet his sire and has chosen now as the time and this the place."

"You mean...?"

"I do."

The meeting dissolved into chaos. There were gallant attempts by several bucks like Milikes and Sunorthoses to offer assistance, but they were politely shooed away by experienced Wolfesses who escorted Dawn to a private room. Airy summoned Wyn to fetch a midwife, and order was restored at last.

Before dismissing her commanders and advisors, Airy outlined their campaign to Perseine, which was now unequivocally clear thanks to Dawn's diplomatic coup. The room then emptied of all but Airy, Jak, and their ubiquitous personal guards. Airy broke the awkward silence between her and her estranged lover.

"I would like to send a priest to give your pup the Maker's blessing. It is a custom in Rikifur to welcome all newborns this way. Would that be acceptable to Dawn...and to you?"

It was a touching gesture. Jak smiled with genuine warmth.

"He, or she, may be the first Wolf ever to receive such an honor. Dawn will understand the significance of your gesture and not object. She is a natural diplomat, very much like Camorra. As for myself, I am deeply pleased that you are willing to offer this. I understand the nature of your antipathy towards Dawn."

Airy wanted to say that she wished it was herself bearing Jak's child, but dared not reveal such things where the long ears of her guards were present. Instead, she dwelled upon thoughts of the kits that she and Vaun would have together. Her maternal musings lessened the bitterness staining her heart, and she patted Jak's paw with hers lovingly.

"I am learning to overcome, White Paw. Freedom and responsibility don't always abide each other's company."

Creating new, pleasant, even if bittersweet memories like that with Airy had become for Jak like discovering diamonds in the sand. Responsibility forbade their affair. Reminded of his own responsibilities, White Paw's attention returned to his present circumstance as Sparks completed his lecture. No less convinced than before, the surrounding warriors looked to White Paw for guidance. He poked the inert figure beneath him with his boot.

"If you really want to go home to hunt, to fish, to raise your pups, then do your duty here and now. That applies to all of you, but you most of all, Hazard. Do I have your pledge of continued obedience to me and my subordinate commanders whether they be Rabbit, Wolf, soldier, or engineer? Will you obey and do your duty?"

"I...I will," he answered as control of his body slowly returned. "I am beat. You are chief. I will respect that if not the Rabbit's ways."

"You will take orders from Prowler even if they come from Sparks?"

"Yes."

"You don't like that do you?"

"No."

"An honest answer. I like that. I will reward it with a change of duty. Cat warned me that you two were trouble. She didn't say why, but she advised me to place you where you were most likely to die in battle."

"Tiger bitch," snarled Hazard.

"She is that, but decide later whether to curse her or thank her. I have an assignment that should earn you high status if done well. Prowler?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sporadic enemy patrols have been spotted on the other side of the river. They do not appear to know we are here yet or what we are doing. I need them blind to our doings while we lay the track, assemble the crane, and place the bridge. You and your malcontent pack mate just volunteered for a mission to intercept their patrols and keep their eyes off this canyon. Prowler, you will lead. Find enough additional volunteers to make it two dozen. Make sure you take a couple of Rabbits who can write. You can send messages by arrow across the canyon. We cross the river in force three days from now."

Prowler recruited three bucks and nineteen additional Wolves. Any excuse to escape tree-felling duty and an eagerness to fight sufficed as reasons for most to volunteer. Cats Paw's motivation was inspired by a renewed attraction to Hazard after witnessing his boldness in confronting White Paw. With the day halfway over before they set out, time to discover a viable upstream crossing was limited. The spot they chose involved a harrowing descent, followed by a swim across the narrow but swift river, and a dangerous scramble up the opposite canyon wall. Night had fallen by the time they reached the top of the opposite rim.

The second day was spent carefully scouting the other side with the goal of remaining undiscovered while identifying whatever small enemy scouting parties braved the hostile wilderness. Encountering nothing but thick brush and easily startled game, Prowler divided his company into four groups. Three of the units consisted of five members each and were sent scouting upstream, downstream, and inland. The sergeant remained in the fourth group guarding the strategic position opposite from where White Paw was now openly erecting the crane and moving the bridge.

Two of the three Rabbits remained with the sergeant to write messages. Standing on an exposed ledge of rock, they waited until a Wolf appeared from hiding on the other side and waved. Prowler drew his bow and shot a message-laden arrow into a tree adjacent to the gesturing Wolf. A return bolt struck the tree next to Prowler within a half an hour with a note acknowledging the observed lack of enemy presence. With nothing else to occupy his time, he sat down to wait for updates from his patrols.

Hazard led the inland squad of three Wolves, himself, and the lone, illiterate Rabbit buck. All of his warriors were female, and they had shed their armor in favor of more traditional attire for this mission, which meant they were bare chested. Typically, that discomfited the Rabbit bucks resulting in amusement for the Wolves, but Eonymothes, the taciturn, pale furred buck with one lop ear, paid their bare breasts no more attention than any Wolf warrior. Surprisingly stealthy and swift of hindpaw for a Rabbit, Eonymothes trotted alongside his comrades as though he were part canine.

He was as expert as any of Cat's Panthers, but Hazard was unwilling to admit that any Rabbit could meet his strict warrior standards. If the buck had been a typically arrogant officer instead of a down to earth peasant, or if he had been any less competent, Hazard would have done his best to ensure the interloper met with a fatal accident rather than risk the mission. Allowing the buck to live was enough. Hazard refused to address him by his Rabbit name, calling him Bent Ear instead. It was meant as an insult, but to Hazard's chagrin, Eonymothes and the Wolfesses accepted the moniker as his warrior name.

Zigzagging their way inland, hours were needed to explore the tangled forest for a distance of a mere half mile from the canyon rim. Thus, it was near dark when Bent Ear discovered the AR encampment.

"Fuck me," swore Hazard as his squad surveyed the swath of newly opened ground crawling with several score enemy soldiers and workers.

"What are they building there?" asked Sunglow, a rare golden furred Wolfess with whom Hazard had been trying unsuccessfully to mate for months much to the annoyance of Cats Paw, who had become strangely jealous of the other females.

Located between a few unfinished, single storied buildings, Sunglow was pointing at a spindly structure of logs that rose nearly as high as the surrounding trees. Based on the activity occurring at its top, it was evident the structure was destined to grow even taller."

Normally silent, except when required to speak, Bent Ear startled his comrades by volunteering an opinion.

"Looks like a watch tower to me. They'll be able to see for miles both ways up and down river. Can probably see the bridge site already."

Hazard was impressed enough with his assessment to completely forget the buck wasn't a warrior.

"Bent Ear is right. White Paw ain't gonna like this. Sunglow, get yourself back to Prowler and tell him what we found."

The Wolfess disappeared without a sound.

"You sure that's what they're doing here, Bent Ear? Setting up a fort and watch tower?"

"Can't think of any other reason to build anything out here, but I can learn more."

"How?"

"I'll ask."

"You mean capture one of the enemy to interrogate?"

"No need for that. I'll just walk up and talk to them."

"Are you fuckin' crazy? That'll give us away."

"Why? I'm just another buck laborer. It's getting dark. They won't be able to tell me from all the others."

"Makes a lot of sense, Hazard," said Cats Paw.

It was a suggestion worthy of a true warrior. Hazard could not deny it.

"Ok, but if you get caught, I ain't savin' your stupid little tail, and you'd better deny knowin' anythin' about White Paw's army or I'll be wearin' your shabby pelt for a cloak."

Bent Ear scowled at the open threat and the implied insult to his loyalty.

"I won't get caught...alive that is. Does that satisfy you, asshole?"

The insulting label was deserved, so Hazard let it pass. Sniffing the air, he convinced himself of Bent Ear's sincerity and felt a small measure of shame for doubting him.

"I liked you better when you were silent, so shut up and go."

More than an hour passed and all traces of twilight had faded before Bent Ear returned as silently as he had departed. No surprise to Hazard, the warrior buck's report was succinct and informative.

"The tower is nearly tall enough to observe the area where the bridge will be deployed. They plan to continue construction through the night. White Paw will be discovered at first light."

"How do you know?"

I volunteered for duty assembling the tower. It's dangerous working at the top, so no one seemed inclined to refuse my offer."

"You are the least useless bunny I've ever met. Well done...and thanks."

Either Bent Ear ignored the racial insult or didn't care, but the lop eared buck smiled at the backpawed compliment.

"You're welcome, but there's more. Talk around the dinner fires is that additional soldiers are coming early tomorrow to occupy this fort."

"How many?"

"Unsure. At least three score, maybe a hundred or more."

"Fuck! We can't fight the ones here already."

A strong urge to down the illicit contents of his water skin moved Hazard's paw involuntarily towards the pouch. Balloon fuel was a dangerous compulsion that landed him in trouble more often than not. Cats Paw was always nagging him to stop. He suspected that his frequent drunken outbursts were what drove her away, but this time the dangerous liquid gave him a wonderful idea.

"The tower has to go," he decided aloud. "The enemy must be distracted and the bridge assembled before the arrival of more soldiers make that impossible. I have a plan, so listen carefully. After we get White Paw's approval, y'all need to follow me."

A midnight exchange of flaming message arrows allowed Hazard's scheme to be understood and approved by White Paw. Prowler was reluctant to let his hotheaded pack mate lead the most critical part of the operation, but yielded to the necessity while keeping the bulk of his squad to hold the crossing and defend it until the death if Hazard failed.

To give Sparks as much time as possible to place the bridge, Hazard waited until less than an hour before dawn. Several crucial enemy sentries were disabled, and Bent Ear re-entered the encampment. Pretending to help carry wood and tinder for the cook fires, he deposited most of the kindling and straw against the large stack of lumber at the base of the tower. Slipping out of sight, he piled more combustibles against one of the buildings farthest from the tower and set them aflame. Once the fire was raging out of control, he waited for someone to notice then joined in the shouts of alarm. Bent Ear sowed panic by issuing confusing commands and instructions designed to keep all attention on the wrong target.

As the whole camp mobilized to extinguish the diversionary fire, Hazard snuck to the base of the tower where he downed a generous swallow of the balloon fuel before dumping the rest on the woodpile with regret. Only a few taps of his tinder were needed to ignite the volatile fuel. Growing rapidly, the conflagration was thirty feet high before the enemy understood the true peril.

Thinking only to douse the flames, a dozen Rabbits rushed towards Hazard's position to scatter the burning wood, but most were shot dead by the five Wolfess archers concealed at the edge of the camp. The survivors retreated in confusion and alarm.

Thanks to Bent Ear, more precious minutes of ineffective pandemonium passed before the AR realized that they were under attack and a large contingent of soldiers with shields backed by crossbowman began to advance and return fire. Flames were crawling up the superstructure, but more time was needed to ensure it attained an unstoppable intensity.

Stacks of wood and other sundry supplies protected Hazard from arrow fire. He positioned himself behind them to kill anyone who approached close enough to try to disperse the fire's heart. Cats paw, Sunglow, War Cry, and two other archers kept up a steady hail of well-aimed arrows, but the advancing soldiers behind their tall shields were immune to their attack and were poised be upon Hazard before the fire was irreversible.

A few quick gestures from Hazard signaled his intent to his hidden support. Once the shield wall was within a few paces of his position, the Wolfesses charged from either side. Sunglow and the two additions to Hazard's squad went down with bolts in their bellies, but War Cry and Cats Paw managed to get behind the enemy, killing five archers and then engaging multiple swordsmen at once. War Cry, alternately thrusting the steel tip of her spear and bashing helmets with its haft, crippled two soldiers. Cats Paw was no less devastating, wielding a longsword in sweeping arcs that slashed and severed everything in its path.

Distracted by the Wolfesses' ferocity, the shield wall collapsed inward when Hazard beat it down with a long, stout log held horizontally in his arms. More enemy died in the ensuing melee, but Hazard's tiny force was outnumbered and not armored for battle. The Wolves were soon beset by several armored soldiers each. War Cry groaned and fell first from a cut across her neck.

Hazard gave a furtive glance over his shoulder to confirm the fire was nearly beyond containment. Vowing to help Cat's paw escape while delaying the enemy a little longer, Hazard muttered a quick prayer to the Maker, killed his closest opponent and lunged to protect his mate by parrying a thrust aimed at her side. Saving her earned him a blade in his back. Summoning a last desperate reserve of strength, he turned and decapitated his killer before all feeling left his legs and he collapsed.

His sacrifice seemed for naught as the enemy surrounded Cats paw, and he despaired until one of the enemy's own turned traitor and killed several knights from behind. It was Bent Ear. With his help, the beleaguered Wolfess killed all the remaining soldiers save one who shot her warrior-Rabbit ally between the shoulder blades. With a sweep of her arm, Cats Paw threw her sword at the crossbow-wielding Rabbit, plunging it through his breastplate, chest, and out the back.

Seizing the momentary reprieve before another wave of Rabbits armed themselves to attack, Cat's Paw knelt at Hazard's side. Blood oozed past his lips and sprayed across her fur when he coughed. His paw covered the exit wound in his belly. His eyes were closed, but when she placed her paw on his head between his ears, they fluttered open. He reached out with his blood-drenched paw and placed it on her stomach.

"Is it mine?"

Cats paw cocked her head in surprise wondering how he knew. She had told no one.

"How?"

"You've been scarin' away the other bitches lately like you actually care for me."

"A jerk father is better than no father, and yes, he's yours."

"My sense of smell is gone. I can't tell if you're lying."

"Why would I lie, you stupid ass? You have no feelings to spare."

"That's my bitch. I knew he was mine. Now get out o' here and take him back home so he can grow up and be a brave warrior like his dad."

"I'm hoping for better than that."

"Like White Paw then."

Cats Paw smiled.

"I'll present him to White Paw when he is born. He will be a chief one day. I know it."

Hazard closed his eyes again, but his chest still rose and fell slowly.

"I can't ask for more than that."

A dozen heartbeats passed before he spoke again.

"Go. I am done for, and there ain't nothin' but death here for you and our pup. Go."

"Be at peace with your ancestors, Hazard. I'll join you alongside Olivia and Blood Paw someday as will your son and all of his pups."

Returning Hazard's paw to rest against his chest, Cats Paw observed that he was no longer breathing. A single tear fell from her eye to land upon his brow as she kissed him. A bloody paw print stained the fur on her stomach. It was a good omen.

Cats Paw retreated, keeping low to the ground to avoid drawing fire from the cautiously approaching second wave of Rabbit soldiers. She made the cover of the woods and vanished. Engulfed in flames, the tower was collapsing behind her.

It was late morning when White Paw led the first of his forces across the completed bridge. A column of smoke in the distance betrayed the location of the AR camp. Sergeant Prowler was waiting on the other side of the river to report. Cats Paw stood with him. Together, they explained what Hazard had done and how they had kept the enemy at bay throughout the early morning hours. Noticing the bloody paw print upon her abdomen, white Paw wondered aloud at its origin.

"It's an auspice for Hazard's pup...just my pup now."

Touched by the bravery and sacrifice lurking in her eyes, White Paw removed the small red amulet from around his neck, placed it in her paw, and pressed it against the crimson stain on her belly. A small crowd that had gathered about them wagged their tails vigorously in approval.

"Return to the Packlands with my blessing, Cats Paw. Birth the child there in peace and safety. May Olivia watch over him."

"Your talisman as chief...this is too great a gift," protested Cats Paw. "I cannot accept it."

With the mark of Olivia forever emblazoned upon his chest, Jak had no further need of the amulet except for the sentimental value it held. It was painful for him to part with the trinket fashioned by Moon, but what was freely given could not always be returned.

"It is a rare item of great worth to me, but I won't repossess it. You have no more choice than I had in accepting the gift of Hazard's life."

Though there were additional skirmishes, small battles, and further acts of heroism, the war with the AR effectively ended at that moment. White Paw swept over the low mountain passes outflanking the army east of Montethoytos. Unprepared for an assault from the south, the enemy in Kulkynth surrendered. Less than ten days later, after all of Airy's army arrived in Perseine, the Anti-Royalists were entreating for peace.

The queen was surprisingly merciful. There were no executions for war crimes. She pardoned everyone who had fought against her, demanded no territorial concessions, and even promised all dukes an expanded role in the governing of Rikifur when the war was over. Her two conditions upon the conquered were a pledge of unquestioning allegiance to her as the rightful ruler of all of Rikifur and the assimilation of their forces under her absolute command.

A few dukes, General Dypholones among them, insisted that they be allowed to surrender to the king, but Airy was adamant that she was sovereign. They acquiesced under threat of forfeiting their titles, having their lands divided among more enlightened dukes, and exclusion from attending the royal wedding.

Tradition in Rikifur held that the future queen spend the night before her wedding ceremony in seclusion surrounded only by does. Airy argued that it was the heir of the throne's chosen spouse, in this instance Vaun, who should be so ensconced, but once again, popular sentiment overwhelmingly believed that her sex and not her position in the royal line governed. Initially prepared to ignore opinion and break with tradition, Airy ultimately yielded on Camorra's advice that the event offered rare diplomatic opportunity.

The new and still fragile coalition Airy had built required strategic cooperation of the dukes to endure. A royal wedding following on the heels of peace negotiations attracted all of the lesser nobility to Vynuurtos including duchesses whose opinions often had consequential influence on the actions of their husbands. Valuable intelligence could be gleaned from the most seemingly innocuous chatter. If Airy was careful, Alliances and loyalties could be strengthened, favorable policies enacted, and beliefs altered by these powerful proxies.

Wyn also began to struggle with the tension of balancing social pressures that inevitably followed the powerful and the power-seeking. Attending to Airy's needs as the queen's first and preeminent pawmaiden rapidly expanded into a socially and desirable post of its own thrusting responsibility upon Wyn for leading a gaggle of young ladies sent to serve and curry favor from the queen. Lacking experience and noble blood, Wyn strove against their incongruous combination of condescension for her lowly birth and obsequiousness toward her position. The additional bother of shepherding unhelpful aspirant's intent on flattering the queen compounded Wyn's exhausting duties of ensuring her mistress was properly served. Wyn would never have been able to cope without Camorra's mentoring.

Camorra, present to assist her queen with navigating the sea of gossipy, nattering does, accepted the small crystal glass of brandy that Wyn offered her. Diaat lay quietly beneath her chair, positioned to Airy's right. The castle's chapel had been converted to a large sitting room for the queen's pre-wedding seclusion. The pews had been moved to the sides of the long room. Placing her chair just below the bema, the queen kept to the same level as her lieges to put them at ease in her presence. Comfortable couches and parlor chairs were brought in to make the setting less formal and more comfortable.

Airy's protectors consisted of Mislei and a half dozen Wolfesses. Males were forbidden with the sole exception of Airy's guardian wolf, Thayir. The off-duty female Wolves preferred the more boisterous festivity centered on the future king, and were in the great hall enjoying strong drink, lively music, and ribald stories led by Tigan. The lone exception was Dawn, who sat beside Camorra, sporadically nursing her hungry pup. Dawn's presence was seen as a curiosity by some of the Rabbits, but an offense by many. Those willing to sit near her were the most tolerant or simply endured her presence to be closer to the queen.

The lesser nobility were well represented among the guests. To Airy's left, holding the place of honor, sat Lady Fionniwynathe, Duchess of Perseine and mother to Vaunorthoses. Two of her daughters, both older than Airy stood behind her chair. Younger than her husband, Fionniwynathe was still old but possessed a dignified beauty that transcended the years. Having met in private with Airy and Camorra before the public soiree, she was a confirmed ally willing to support Airy and her son's reign in any way she could.

As a counterpoint, on the Duchess of Perseine's left, sat Lady Fuathatere, sister to General Dypholones. She was heir to her widowed brother's province of Dorphynth since he had no surviving children. Her lust for dominance exceeded her brother's, and her views were adamant and as unchanging as the Church. The calico furred doe, all angles and sharp edges despite having birthed numerous kits and being past middle age, was a force with which to reckon, bent on power and prestige for her own kits, who were many. Five of her daughters stood about her or sat upon the floor at her hindpaws.

Scattered throughout the room were two score more whose distance from the queen was balanced by their status and the diplomatic value they held for the queen. Feeling out of place among does who had no understanding of battle and the physical hardship of her epic travels, Airy remained aloof, letting the subject of group conversation wander from topics as mundane as the weather to the rumors of the doings of the Church in lands to the south. For much of the evening, the subject of the Wolves had been delicately avoided, but Dawn and the warriors' presence made them the object of furtive and sometimes hostile glances followed by whispered conversation. With the sustained consumption of brandy came the loosening of tongues and open expression of honest convictions.

"They are disgusting brutes, who wish to enslave and eat us," exclaimed Lady Fuathatere in response to a favorable reference to the Wolves made by Hrestranythe, a daughter of duchess Vreniophylla of the island province of Syjantos, one of Airy's most staunchly loyal western allies. "Have we forgotten the past? Providing them steel and inviting them among us invites our destruction. They must be sent back to the wilderness where they belong."

Dawn's triangular ears tracked the conversation, but she did not look up, continuing instead to admire her pup.

"Maker knows they have been important allies so far," said Vreniophylla in her daughter and the queen's defense. "Their help is necessary to win the war, and they should not be treated as enemies."

"But they cannot be civilized. The females parade about with their breasts exposed and mate with abandon bearing pups to unknown fathers."

"And the males strut about in nothing but skirts," added Hrestranythe who received a puzzled stare from her mother confused as to the purpose of her point.

"So they can more easily rape our daughters," added Fuathatere triumphantly to the nods of approval by many of the silent does.

Hrestranythe was undeterred by the Duchess of Dorphynth's misconstruction of her comment and took pleasure in the turn of conversation.

"But what if it was their leader, White Paw? He is so dark and handsome."

Looks of disgust accompanied her wistful musing. Airy cringed for a reason all her own, and remained steadfastly silent afraid to take sides.

"That is enough of that disgusting talk, Hrestranythe," scolded her mother while Fuathatere's daughters giggled at her expense.

"He has his pick of females anytime he wants," continued Fuathatere emboldened by the consensus in her favor, "and has sired scores of pups already and cares not for any of them."

"He loves my little boy," spoke Dawn in a neutral tone as she stroked the black fur of her suckling pup's belly. "White Paw fights alongside the queen to give his son a better future."

Many had forgotten the Wolfess was there and were embarrassed that the discussion had turned so vehemently against the Wolves. Fuathatere persisted anyway.

"That may be so, but he is not White Paw's heir. He will have to fight his own father or someone else if he ever hopes to rule. What kind of father leaves his son abandoned so? Such a people can't be civilized."

Camorra whispered to Airy that it was time for her to intervene. Having anticipated that conversation like this was inevitable, they had prepared a little speech in advance.

"Are Rabbits civilized?" asked Airy rising to her hindpaws. All ears and eyes focused upon her. "We fight among ourselves. We have our share of assassins, kidnappers, murderers, and deviants. The priests torture to combat heresy. We hide within our borders never exploring the world or learning anything new. Are those civilized acts?"

Some looked away ashamed when Airy paused and met their eyes, but many expressed offense to their pride at the enumeration of Rikifur's societal faults.

"We sneer down upon the Wolves because of how they dress and choose their mates. Clothing and sexual preferences do not define a civilization. Civilizations should be measured on their compassion towards their people and towards their children in particular."

Airy gestured to Dawn who rose and placed her infant in Airy's arms where he purred and snuggled into her bosom.

"Did you know that it was a Wolf whose ingenuity allowed White Paw's army to cross the river Ilska, spanning a gap that no Rabbit could? A Horse has given us gunpowder, cannon, and balloons in which to fly. Can you deny what we have been able to accomplish by working together? Imagine what our children and Wolf children can accomplish by helping instead of trying to kill each other. Perhaps someday, if given the chance, this little pup will do something equally astounding. Would you deny him that possibility because his tail is long and ears are short? Will we let fear control our destiny? Prejudice? If your answer is yes, then ask yourself whether you are truly civilized."

Airy sat back down satisfied that some of the faces surrounding her held contrition and thoughtfulness instead of hostility. Holding on to Dawn's pup a little longer, she let Camorra speak of other matters to assuage the mood and mend he conversational fence.

In contrast to the reserved gathering in the chapel, the great hall of Vaun's family estate overflowed with revelers loud and jubilant. Nobility, soldiers, merchants, a few lucky commoners, and scores of Wolf warriors all joined in to wish the future king well. Though caring nothing for kings and queens, the canids happily let themselves be infected by the contagious euphoria. The queen was their friend, promising better times ahead. Thus, the races sang, drank, and laughed together, but the startling comradery did not stop there. Since Rabbit does were only allowed to be present as servants, the bucks took advantage of the diplomatic exception allowing female Wolf warriors to partake and danced with them.

In keeping with protocol and courtesy, Jak endured several hours of the festivities with polite dignity, but Vaun's party was a celebration for a future Jak could not share that dredged up memories upon which he did not wish to dwell. Airy was to be wed on the morrow, and Jak was the sole guest finding no happiness in the anticipation. The boisterous reception was incompatible with his mood, so having satisfied decorum, he sought escape to solitude and the consolation of his private thoughts.

White Paw's flight was hindered by other guests many of whom were Rabbits that just a few weeks earlier had been his mortal enemies. Tonight, they smiled at him when he passed insisting upon shaking his paw and thanking him for bringing their princess home. Toasts for the soon to be conjoined couple were proposed obliging him to pretend to sip from his cup, which he refused to let the servants refill. Jak honestly wished only the best for Airy and Vaun, but he knew better than to use the strong drink to dispel his melancholy. The uninhibited abandon that liquor induced might lead to a regretful act or statement.

Even after exiting the banquet hall, he was beset by admirers until he had wandered far from the party into a vacant portion of the castle. A flight of stairs leading to a lower level promised the seclusion Jak sought. Descending, he found himself in a maze-like series of intersecting corridors dimly lit by widely spaced candles set in mirrored sconces that did little to dispel the gloomy dark. To light his way, he purloined a candle and chose hallways at random letting his restless hindpaws guide him where the pleased. He passed sundry rooms of unknown purpose until he entered a large, rectangular chamber with high windows along one wall through which the stars were visible betraying his position to be at or just below ground level.

Desiring more light, he touched his candle flame to the thick liquid resting in several braziers, and was satisfied with the steady flame the oil produced. Racks of weapons, mostly swords of various styles but also axes, spears, maces, and staves were stored in racks lining the walls. Sparring targets made of sturdy burlap stuffed with straw hung from thick timber joists that supported a high arched ceiling lost in the shadows. Choosing one of the lightest blades developed by the Rabbit smiths, Jak ran himself through an exhausting series of practice moves designed to develop speed, dexterity, and precision killing strikes. Every blow to the surrounding target dummies landed in the center of the red circle representing the heart.

The workout helped him forget his troubles, but when he paused to catch his breath, melancholic musings of his adventures with Airy returned. Frustrated, he pivoted and threw his weapon forcefully enough that the entire blade pierced a target to the cup shaped hilt. It was time to move on; a walk outside and fresh air called to him, so he began extinguishing the braziers. Before he snuffed the last source of light, he was interrupted by a familiar purr echoing among the walls and the open space between the arches and the ceiling. Cat was lurking somewhere, but Jak searched fruitlessly until her tail dropped down from a rafter and brushed the tips of his ears.

"Is pleasure to vatch you in action, puppy, but don't let me stop you putting out lights. The dark is more suitable for romantic encounter."

"Hello, Cat."

"Nice sword vork, but that sissy blade is useless in battle. You planning to kill somevun unarmored? Your rival for qveen bunyic perhaps?"

"Don't be absurd. I'm just...just burning away some restlessness."

"I know better vay to do that. Climb up here vith me, and I vill make you exquisitely tired."

Jak sniffed the air wafting down from her perch. It carried the pungent tang of recent sex.

"I wouldn't be the first tonight. Who got lucky?"

"Does it matter? Volf or Rabbit, they all vant vhat kitty gots."

"What about your Fox?"

"Oh, him too, but he is busy tonight. Alvays so busy. Besides, he knows he has to share."

"If only Airy understood that."

"Ha! Rabbits are mostly hypocrites, but not her. She chains herself to stupid morals and breaks own heart in process. Bunyic is marrying wrong person. Should be you. She loves you, and you are king - King of Volves. King and qveen together. So simple."

"It's not simple and it's not her fault. She can't be both the defender of the crown and a rebel towards everything for which it stands."

"She changed many rules already."

"Not something this fundamental. We...my kind...are still widely unpopular in Rikifur. The queen openly taking a Wolf for a lover? She would lose everything. No one but you and I are ready for that."

"Life is so unfair. Rotten, selfish Cat finds loving Fox, and bunyic and little doggie get nothing."

"Airy has Vaun."

"Bah! She can't possibly vant him. He's obedient and stuffy rule follower, who alvays does exactly vhat he is supposed to; nothing compared to you. You're unique, daring, unpredictable, and so delightfully handsome. I like that and so does qveen."

"Vaun doesn't have to be like me to be a good king. He loves her. Airy loves him. She told me so."

"She lies to make it easier for you. Use your nose, dumb doggy. Vaun is friend to her only. I am female. I know. You're her true love."

"It doesn't matter. What is done is done."

"Nonsense. There is still time. Vaun could have horrible accident tonight. That is easy to arrange. Fox vould cover it up for me and blame it on another Church assassin. Vith ufudd bunyic dead, little qveen still has coalition to vin her var and lots of time to find replacement king. You two go back to fucking vhile Cat vatches over you. Problem solved. Everyvun happy."

"Are you crazy? No. Don't answer that. I know you are. Vaun is my friend. Don't even think of hurting him. He is the best buck for her. He will worship her and dote on her for the rest of their lives together."

"So, you von't kill rival and von't let Airy throw avay kingdom to run avay vith you?"

"You are correct."

"You know, Volfie, your nobility and selflessness excites me almost as much as your beautiful body."

Cat lowered her long arm down invitingly to just within his reach.

"All is over then for you two. You free now. Let Cat help you forget bunyic. Come. Fuck vith me however you vant, like the ferals do - knot and all. I don't let anyvun else on top, you know. Drives Volves crazy, but most Rabbits love being dominated. How funny is that?"

Shaking his head, Jak framed his polite refusal, but never uttered it. An angry dialogue echoed in the chamber originating from the hallway leading to the only entrance. One voice was recognizably Vaun's. Not wanting to explain to his friend why he had abandoned the feast to go lurking in the basement of the castle, Jak searched about frantically for a place to hide.

"Hurry, puppy. Take my paw."

Having no other alternative, Jak clasped Cat's wrist with both paws allowing her to haul him aloft where she spooned against him in her shadowy alcove atop a broad wooden beam. Her victorious purr was loud in his ear, and her warm breath moist against his neck.

"Mmmm. You smell enticing. Mind if I lick you all over?"

"Shh. Not now, Cat."

"Vhy not? They von't see us. Think how sexy kinky it vill be."

One of her paws slipped between his thighs.

"You don't have to move. I know from experience that doggy dicks bend backwards nicely."

"Cat," Jak begged. "Be quiet please. They're almost here."

Cat obeyed the letter of his request by closing her mouth, but her paws wandered mischievously over Jak's body as the two intruders entered the fencing chamber.

"Is that why you dragged me down here, to complain and whine about my becoming king?" raged Vaun in a loud and angry voice. "If so, then harass me no more and let me return to the festivities. Your company is tiresome and your tone petulant. I prefer the throng of well-wishers above. Hundreds are eager to congratulate me and share good food and drink. I have no desire to partake of your sour grapes."

"Sour grapes?" Meerachaphos' voice rivaled Vaun's in intensity. "I am the eldest. Being first in line in our house for the title of king is my birthright."

"Birthright? Bah. It is the queen's choice not your right."

"Father should never have let you attend the royal court. The princess developed an unseemly, childish attraction that clouded her judgment. She only picked you because House Perseine is her most logical alliance and you were familiar to her. As first born, tradition dictates that honor should go to me."

"There is no such written rule."

"The most important rules are unwritten, little brother. It is the way things are done."

"If you knew the queen at all, you would realize she does not bind herself to archaic notions. In one year, she has done more to change Rikifur than all of her predecessors over the last thousand. She does things no doe, or buck for that matter, has ever done before."

"And that is why she needs a strong king; someone to keep her in her place and stop her from destroying Rikifur. Too much change is bad. It severs people from their roots and leaves them adrift. I can return us to stability, where Rabbits rule and Wolves, Foxes and the other lesser races know their place. You have had ample time to demonstrate that you are not up to the task."

"You arrogant fool. Power is all you want. You care nothing for her."

"I care that she is fertile. Providing she hasn't made herself barren fighting in battles and other nonsense activities unfit for a doe, her duty is to produce my heirs.

Cat growled in Jak's ear.

"That vun deserves death."

"Shh!" answered Jak while fending off her wandering paws.

"I already told you, brother, that there was nothing you could say to persuade me against marrying the queen. Every bit of pestilence that spews from your mouth only convinces me more that I am the fitter king. Airy has a vision for the future. I will support her. You are stuck in the past. Goodbye, Meerachaphos. Don't ever speak to me of this again."

"You can't just dismiss me like this."

"For the moment, this is a demand between equals. Tomorrow, I will be your king, and your permanent silence regarding our marriage will become a decree."

Vaun attempted to leave, but Meerachaphos grabbed his arm.

"No. I won't let you go until you agree to cancel this wedding. I will be king."

Staring at Meerachaphos' paw upon his arm, Vaun shook himself free from the unwanted entrapment.

"Your wants mean nothing to me. They are as empty and bereft of honor as your promises. I love and respect the queen too much to condemn her to a marriage with a craven backstabber like yourself."

"Recall that insult or prepare to defend it."

"The truth cannot be recalled. Your timidity cost us hundreds of lives and many months of progress. A pathetic weasel like you is unfit to be king."

"I have more respect for the ufudd," whispered Cat. "Let me kill the sniveling brother instead."

"No," said Jak. "Let Vaun handle this. Meerachaphos is his kin.

Meerachaphos grew livid over Vaun's accusation. Unable to provide a credible defense for his actions that resulted in Airy's' defeat at Dome Hill, his rage burned out of control. Striding towards a nearby weapon rack, he removed two of the narrow fencing blades.

"You have one last chance to recant that slur and call off this wedding."

"And if I refuse?"

Meerachaphos tossed the second rapier to Vaun, who caught it by the grip.

"Then prepare to die."

Vaun assumed the en garde position signaling his intent to stand his ground.

"Now he needs our help, I think," hissed Cat eager to fight.

"You can't kill an aristocrat. Rikifurians would never stand for it. We need Rabbits to witness and settle this. The political situation for Airy is troubled enough already. Can you sneak out without being seen and fetch some guards?"

"Of course, dummy, but you must close eyes and count to tventy vhile I do."

"What for? I'm on your..."

"My secret to keep or give, and you haven't earned it." She gave Jak's butt a squeeze. "Give me vhat I vant sometime, and I'll tell. Until then...eyes shut, puppy."

It was an eccentric request, but Jak obeyed. He felt Cat move, but he never heard a sound from her, and when he opened his eyes again she was nowhere to be seen. Distracted by the tableau below, he trusted that she had escaped in stealth.

"I am the better swordsman," said Vaun with deserved lack of humility. "If you back down now, I am prepared to forget this. There is no one to witness your shame. If you cross steel with me, I cannot be responsible for your life."

Meerachaphos' answer was a rapid series of cuts, thrusts, and lunges that Vaun deftly parried while retreating. Light and supremely well balanced; their blades were a blur that even Jak's experienced eye found difficult to follow. The slightest mistake made by either brother would leave an opening for a deadly strike.

Vaun seized the offense and drove Meerachaphos backwards with remarkable poise and precision, but he was reluctant to kill his own brother. Breaking away, his opponent circled to the side with his arm and blade extended towards Vaun.

"I will not yield until one of us is dead, little brother. You don't seem to have the stomach for this anymore than you would have the guts to be a real king."

Forsaking further preamble, Meerachaphos attacked again. Vaun retreated, and then launched his own assault, and the exchange raged around the room beneath Jak for nearly a minute with Vaun fighting mostly defensively and keeping as much distance from Meerachaphos as he could. Sweating and breathing hard, they separated and paused again.

"Stand your ground, coward," taunted Meerachaphos.

"I think not. I am happy to dance about this room with you until you calm down and see reason."

"There is no danger of that," replied Meerachaphos propelling himself forward to strike once again.

In an effort to dissuade his belligerent brother, Vaun beat Meerachaphos' blade away and executed a careful series of attacks all aimed at his opponent's head before striking low across Meerachaphos' thigh drawing a thin trickle of blood from a long, shallow cut.

"Stop this nonsense, brother, unless you want worse than that."

The injured buck responded by hefting a small buckler for defense and resumed trying to defeat Vaun in earnest. The shield offered a strong advantage, but also yielded an opportunity for Vaun to end the fight peacefully. Waiting for his brother to exhaust himself again, Vaun exerted the minimum effort to defend while receiving several small cuts as the cost of evading a deadly thrust. When the telltale slowing of Meerachaphos' strikes came, Vaun caught Meerachaphos' blade with his, locked their guards together between their chests, and pushed his brother backwards into the wall. Summoning all the force he could with his left arm, he slammed the buckler against the two blades and the wall snapping both at the hilt. Dropping his useless weapon, Vaun brought his right paw violently across Meerachaphos' snout then made a fist and drove it hard into his solar plexus. Meerachaphos slumped to the floor. Vaun stood over him for a moment massaging his bruised knuckles satisfied his brother was finished.

"Don't get up Meerachaphos. You live only if you stay down and remain absent until after the wedding."

Vaun began walking towards the exit, but his treacherous sibling was not content with the future king's clemency. Leaping to his hindpaws, he struck Vaun across the head and shoulders with his buckler. Staggering forward to his knees and forepaws, Vaun struggled to stay conscious.

When Meerachaphos drew a dagger, his intent became clear to Jak. The Wolf saw no option but to intervene. Dropping to the floor between the brothers, his appearance startled the villain but failed to unnerve him.

"I will not let you kill him," warned Jak.

Heedless of the political consequences of murdering the chief of all chiefs, Meerachaphos swiped the blade at Jak's belly while simultaneously swinging the buckler at his head. Jak was forced to take the impact of the shield painfully upon his forearm while catching Meerachaphos' knife-wielding arm at the wrist. An upward twist forced the buck to drop the shield, and together they fought for control of the weapon.

Jak was stronger and twisted the deadly tip inexorably towards Meerachaphos. Sensing defeat, the buck drove Jak backwards so they tripped over the still kneeling Vaun to fall and roll about, each one trying to drive the six inches of steel into the other's heart. Jak's well-meaning rescue had transformed into a duel to the death.

Jak managed to roll on top and lock his pale paw about Meerachaphos' neck while pinning the knife and the buck's right paw to the floor. Squeezing unrelentingly, Jak hoped to render his opponent unconscious, but he failed to observe that Meerachaphos' free paw, apparently pinned beneath his back, was creeping towards the hilt of a second dagger hidden under his jacket. Neither was Jak aware that Vaun had recovered and acquired a new sword. The Wolf was wholly unprepared for the simultaneous attack that came from both Rabbits.

Vaun made the first strike kicking Jak hard in the side with his boot, breaking his stranglehold on Vaun's brother. In the same instant, Meerachaphos swept the concealed dagger up to plunge it in Jak's chest. White Paw was certain he had been betrayed to his death until he observed with helpless fascination as Vaun pierced Meerachaphos' dagger wielding arm arresting it's motion, pinned it neatly to his chest, and drove the tip of his blade through the scoundrel's heart.

Stunned, Jak lay on his back next to the dead duelist. Vaun extended a paw and helped Jak to stand while the Wolf massaged his sore side.

"I'm sorry for kicking you so hard, White Paw."

Vaun pulled the blade free from his lifeless brother's chest as he apologized and tossed the weapon clattering across the stone floor. A trail of crimson drops lay in its wake.

"Since you saved my life, I am inclined to forgive you. Why did you choose a Wolf over that of your own blood and kin?"

Vaun gazed mournfully upon Meerachaphos before placing his paw on Jak's shoulder and squeezing it with affection.

"You are more kin to me, White Paw, than he ever was. My brother never saw me as anything but an insignificant rival to be bullied and belittled whenever he wasn't ignoring me outright. There was never any love between us other than what was required by our shared parentage. You on the other paw, have done me every kindness possible including the ultimate sacrifice of forgoing your love for Airy and releasing her to me."

Jak's brow rose in astonishment.

"Airy told you of us?"

"Yes, on the night of our drunken rebellion. She didn't want me to become an unwilling cuckold."

Sadness and doubt, detectable to Jak's sensitive snout, accompanied Vaun's breath.

"That word has no meaning to most Wolves, but I have delved deep enough into your ways to understand why that is so important to you."

"She still loves you, you know."

"I do. It is a reciprocal bond of affection that only death can sunder."

"I am aware of that and have made my peace with it trusting that your mutual love abstains from physical intimacy."

"A less trusting buck might perceive me as a potential rival best disposed of. Tonight offered the perfect opportunity to ensure Airy's fidelity."

"As it did for you to let me die and reclaim her. We both had temptation laid before us. It is liberating to be tested so and have our friendship proven to be without blemish. It makes the horror of killing Meerachaphos easier to bear."

"Horror?" wondered Cat, appearing silently among them. "Looks like happy ending to me."

The noisy clatter of knights in armor soon followed as a half dozen guards entered led by Vaunorthoses' father, Socholathetes. Upon seeing his eldest son lying in a pool of his own blood, the aged Duke put his paw to his graying muzzle in shock.

"Great Maker! What? How did this happen? Who committed this heinous treachery?"

"I did," admitted Vaun before explaining his brother's complaint and subsequent challenge. Describing the duel in detail, Vaun changed only the ending to omit White Paw's complicity.

"I see," said the duke when Vaun had finished and White Paw had verified his testimony. "I have myself to blame. I should have sent Meerachaphos away until after the wedding. His displeasure over your success was no secret."

"What happens now?" asked Jak. "Is the wedding to be delayed?"

"Life has moments of joy and moments of sorrow, great Wolf," said the duke. "We should not promote either in deference to the other. Though the shadow of this tragedy will cloud its enjoyment, we should continue with the wedding as planned. Afterwards, we shall bury the dead, mourn, and move on."

"What about me?" asked Vaun. "I am not yet king, and even if I was, the king is not above the law."

"This was a duel conducted in adherence to the rules of honor. The evil that provoked this tragedy died with it. The Maker's will is done. No one will question that. Now come with me, son. Your proud father still loves you and wishes to share your last day as his son before you become his king."

[End of Chapter]