Conflict

They crouched beneath the low wall, seeing Julian and his men approaching from the south. The crest of rock was a natural formation, further guarding them from unwanted adversaries. It also made for quick camouflage. The stone was all the same color, layered in bands to give the effect of an old cake. The bottom layer was swirled tan and grey stone, their uniforms effectively blending with it. The shadows also helped, adding to their cover, making the snipers higher in the cliffs nearly impossible to see. Added to that was their home field advantage, though he wasn't sure how much the latter would help; Austin had said that Julian had been informed as to the layout of their home down to the last detail. Justin smirked, realizing there were a few things the mouse had forgotten.

One was the hidden crevices in which the snipers now lay; another was an inner chamber where the sun shone through a hole in the cliff. The field of wheat on the valley floor was completely natural, yet inedible because of a toxic mold that sprouted from it. He knew they would make the mistake of thinking it was their source of food, stealing it for themselves. It was also the only other cover on the southern or western side. The cliffs spanned the north and east, a deciduous and needle leaf forest coating them, allowing the shadows to hide them long into the day. The western side was taken up by the lake and waterfall, which flowed into a hidden reservoir, accessible only through the twists and turns of the halls carved into the stone.

The sun had barely risen over the mountains, the floor cool, but the rats remained in their positions, cobras ready to strike. The seconds ticked by like hours, but Julian was gaining ground. Truth was he couldn't even see them, so wasn't bothering to hide himself. He strode by the poisoned field, seeing the light reflect off the lake, thinking about how things would change once he was in charge. Elizabeth would marry him, after she saw his forces win, her heart captured by his skills and cunning, and her children's minds would be twisted to suit his needs. He had already done it with Timothy.

That was the real reason he had told her to stay from her home while on the farm. Timothy, though bright, hadn't been that hard to manipulate. It had just taken some…old fashioned discipline, and a bit of his twisted magic. In just a few days the boy's heart and emotions had been warped to suit his needs. His plan had been to brainwash all the Brisbys, but he'd temporarily given up after she'd rejected his proposal, though now he was determined to see it through to the end. He just needed the right opportunity.

"Hold," he held out a hand, catching movement from the shadows. The slanted rays of the sun now beat fully down upon the open floor, causing waves of heat to shimmer up from its surface. It was going to be a scorching day, all the worse for his army. He shielded his eyes as he gazed across the blazing ground, now positive he had seen something. He motioned for them to stay behind, drawing his blade as he went ahead. Again Justin smirked. He'd fallen right into their trap.

He was silent, treading quickly along the darkened path, the scents of summer blooming in his lungs. While he had suffered severe casualties, the worst injury on their side had been a broken wrist. He intended to change that. They had launched a surprise attack, sending volley after volley of near invisible arrows, taking down anyone who stood beneath the cloud. The evil rat had no idea what had slain his men, of who had done it, but he knew he was far from beaten.

His best soldiers remained in the woods, training the new recruits they'd picked up along the way. Rats of every shape and color crowded their camp, but he felt it wouldn't go to waste in the end. The new fighters weren't from NIMH, but they had been promised long life and comfort; that is, if they survived. They had no idea he was lying to them.

They don't matter, he told himself. None of them do. Though he came on as being a brilliant general, Julian Genre was, in fact, a coward. His rule was: don't get your hands dirty doing what someone else could do just as well, if not better. His mother had taught him that from his birth. Truth was, Julian had never met his father, or had even known who he was. All he knew was that his mother, a dark beauty named Ebony, had been just one of the rats his father had slept with, and that she had died shortly before he'd been captured by NIMH. But he would never know the cause.

He knew he was insane, feeling this way about someone who was bound to his enemy, but he couldn't help the warmth that pounded through his veins whenever her scent spilled past his nose. His heart raced at the thought of her beauty, greatly enhanced now that she was one of his kind. How he longed to feel his claws in her hair, the curves of her body pressed to his bare skin, for her heart to long as his did. He reached in his shirt, pulling out a small black stone. A single red line pulsed within its depths, the beating heart of the child held beneath his control.

I promise, Elizabeth, he silently vowed. I'm going to get you back, even if I have to sacrifice everything. He lifted a claw, scraping it along the surface, hearing a small scream echo in his ears as the line was severed, bleeding into the black stone…

Timothy couldn't help the sound that fell from his lips. It felt as though he were being torn apart from the inside out. Ashton was thrown from a light doze, gazing, frightened, at the boy. He yelled as though possessed by the devil. It felt as though hours had passed before the unearthly sound shattered in his throat.

"Timmy," he asked. He gently shook the child, but could get no response. He felt his neck for a pulse. It was quick, painful and terrified. Tears dripped from his tightly closed eyes. When at last they opened, the gaze behind them was clouded and dull.

"What happened?" his voice was rough.

"I don't know," Ashton spoke honestly. "You just started screaming, as though you were being murdered."

The youth had a hand pressed to his chest. His heartbeat was still unnaturally fast. "It felt like I was," he said at last. "As though something were tearing me apart."

The doctor held a cup softly to his lips. The fluid inside smelled strangely sweet. Timothy shook his head. "Why am I here?" he asked. Ashton took his time explaining, telling as much as he knew about how the mind worked, and how easily even the brightest could be taken over.

"Julian had you beneath his control," he finished. "He trained you to spy on our colony, and also to fight us. He figured no one would suspect the son of Jonathan Brisby."

Timothy gazed down at his body, realizing he was no longer sickly thin, seeing the scars that coated his wrist. "But why pick me?" he breathed.

Ashton shook his head. "That I can't answer," he replied. He gave the lad a small push to the shoulder, urging him back beneath the soft sheets. "But I believe it best that you got some sleep. You may have an early start tomorrow." he nodded, turning on his side. In a few minutes his breath was even and deep.

Julian must have released him, thought Ashton. The flesh visible from the mark was no longer a sickly hue, but a fair shade that matched the rest of his skin, and his eyes no longer held that ghostly gleam. He just hoped it would remain this way. He shook his head, drawing the curtain, knowing the boy no longer needed to be under guard. I'll inform Justin soon as possible, he thought, then ventured to his own bed to sleep.

"What's going to happen to us?" Justin turned to the door, seeing Elizabeth stand in the space. For once her hair was pulled back from her shoulders, held in place by a silk scarf. He finished unbuttoning the soiled vest, pulling it away before tossing it in a small basket.

"I can't say for sure," he said. The wound in his hand burned, blood staining the bandage that covered it. "There's no telling how long this may last."

She glided closer, resting her head against his chest. She could feel the metal lining sewn into his shirt. She took a deep breath; he smelled of sweat, blood and wood. "I'm worried for you," she whispered. It was so quiet he barely heard.

He tilted her chin back with his hand, lips touching her cheek. "I know you're frightened," he said. "But I promise I'll get you out of this, no matter what happens."

She gazed in his eyes. "Julian wants to murder you," she sobbed. Her grip tightened on his shirt. "I don't want you going out there," he placed a claw on her lips, pulling her to the bed. He held her close as he shared more of his secret.

"I was part of an extra experiment back at NIMH," he began. "The idea was to see if a higher concentration achieved faster results. It worked, but not in the way they expected," he paused; the bandage had suddenly become very interesting to him. He curled his fingers. "They managed to make me as dangerous as Julian, perhaps even more so, however they neglected the fact that I wasn't evil, that I wasn't going to be a weapon of murder;"- his fist tightened.- "but it seems that's what I've become."

His gaze remained glued to the floor. She didn't run, however. He felt her tail glide past his waist, her hands clasping themselves on his neck. She buried her face deeper in his chest.

"If anything, this is my fault," she whispered. "I told them where the valley was, I allowed them to follow me here."

"They would have found us regardless of what you said." He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Because that's what they were trained to accomplish."

A moment of silence, then, "What can they do to us?"

He shook his head. "There's no telling what he has planned, though if he wins we will have to face a greater enemy: NIMH."

"They can't come here, can they?"

"Knowing them, they'll find some way, even if it means breaking the law. Remington has become obsessed with finding us, and he will let nothing stop him until he reaches his goal."

"But what does he plan to do?"

He stopped, gazing deeply into her eyes, feeling the child growing within her. "I think it would be best if you didn't know," he said quietly. She sniffled, falling against him.

The sky was overcast, a welcome change from the oppressive heat of past days. A fine mist coated the valley, there was no sign of Julian upon the horizon. The rats took advantage of the rain, using the time it provided to better their weapons, making sure they were ready for whatever NIMH threw at them. Justin's ears were still ringing from the sessions he'd taught, but he knew that every minute spent training was helping to avoid disaster. He went home with Cynthia clasped in his arms, the child having fallen asleep despite the vile noise. Martin was in the infirmary with Timothy, and Teresa was nowhere to be found. He figured Elizabeth was still in her room, unable to stay awake because of the baby.

He's growing so fast, he thought, and wondered how long it would be before he could hold his child. He just hoped it wouldn't be a repeat of heartbreaking history. It shouldn't, he told himself, though his aching pulse told him different. There would always be a risk, no matter how careful they were. But he could still hope.

Cynthia sighed, gently stirring the fur on his neck, tightening her grip on his shirt. It had been so long since Jonathan's death, he wondered if she even remembered the mouse. Justin longed to have a family, knowing that he was more than willing to be a father to her, and her siblings, especially since he'd been there to watch them grow up, then later having dreams where he told Jonathan just how much they missed him, and what he was missing.

His mind strayed to one of the first times he'd looked in on her family, watching the house from afar while she spoke to Ages about Timothy. The children had all been so young then, especially Cynthia, who had to be the most adorable little girl he'd ever seen. He smiled, recalling how she had tried to tell that shrew what was wrong with her brother, only to be ignored for her older sister.

They've grown up so fast, he thought, and held the girl closer. The sight of their leader carrying a child did cause a few stares, but they were ignored as he imagined what a future with Elizabeth would be like, teaching her children all he knew of the world, being there when they needed him most. He just hoped this war wouldn't prevent him from doing so. He shifted his grasp to open the door, only to find it slightly ajar. Cautiously, he widened the gap, slipping through with barely a sound. Nothing seemed amiss, at least not at first. There were a few faint scents in the air, but nothing to signal foul play, though he couldn't help the unease that crept up his spine…