On the day that Josh was due to depart for Minsk, to take up his new post as royal Commissioner, a whole procession of escorts was assembled, to accompany him on his journey. The Rats had no trains, no automobiles and certainly no aircraft of any kind. The most sophisticated means of transport they had were some posh, giant-rabbit-driven carriages, reserved only for the elite class.
Josh, as a royal official, would be travelling in style in his own private carriage, the size of a small train car, driven by four strong giant rabbits, with Elizabeth, her children, Fievel and Mr Ages. Justin, Brutus and a garrison of ten of their finest warrior Rats would be accompanying them for protection, riding on their customary military chariots. A second, smaller carriage of servants, supplies and baggage would also be accompanying the envoy.
Josh had tried to get permission for Tanya to accompany them as his guest, to be with Fievel, but safety protocols strictly forbid anyone of 'low birth', including mouse servants, to ride in a royal carriage. Although Fievel was under his guardianship now, Tanya wasn't, and her sibling relation to Fievel offered no exception. Although greatly disappointed, at least she was content, knowing her brother was in good hands.
Before departing, Josh had taken her aside for a private talk. He passed her the makeshift hand radio he'd contrived up on the mountain – the same one he'd later used to bypass the REMO's damaged guidance system to save Martin's life during their space salvage mission.
"Tanya, I need you to be my eyes and ears around here while I'm away. We think there might be an enemy lurking in our midst, who's likely to try and strike again in my absence. Report to me by radio anything suspicious you see or hear, but make sure nobody else knows about it, least of all Jenner. You understand?"
Ever since Josh had informed them of his suspicions that there was a spy operating among them, Justin and Brutus had discreetly done a thorough background investigation on everybody, including all the officials and the entire royal staff, but had been unable to come up with a suspect. Whoever had been working with Castor and his Exiles had covered his tracks far too well.
Josh had had a gut instinct that Jenner might have something to do with this and had argued with Nicodemus to have him brought in for questioning. Unfortunately, that was impossible, mostly due to lack of evidence. Neither Jenner's foul attitude, nor his hatred of Josh made him a traitor in the eyes of the Council and would only risk damaging Josh's delicate and hard-earned good standing with the Rats. But Josh wasn't about to take any chances and Tanya was the only one he could trust to keep her eyes open.
Tanya took the radio, handling it very gingerly, weary of breaking it. After giving her a quick crash course on the basics and was satisfied that she knew how to use it, Josh was ready to leave, but Tanya called him back. She hugged him tight.
"Please look after my brother, Josh. Promise me nothing will happen to Fievel." Josh patted her reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on the little tyke." Tanya giggled at Josh calling her baby brother a little tyke. Like his sister, Fievel had quickly grown real close to Josh, even more so when he'd become his guardian. But for him to return to their old home, the place where both their parents had died during the Great Revolution, made Tanya feel like they were tempting fate a little too much, but decided to keep it to herself. She was delighted when Josh knelt down, letting her give him a kiss on the cheek. Bidding her goodbye, he hurried out to join the other members of his expedition to Minsk.
The royal guards stood at attention as Nicodemus approached Josh, holding a cushion. On it, in a golden cylinder, was an official scroll – Josh's warrant as royal Commissioner to the province, which he was to present to the Rat governor of Minsk upon his arrival.
"Commissioner Anderson, I assign you the task of suppressing the uprise that threatens the peaceful community of Minsk and restoring order to the province," said Nicodemus, "Over there, you will meet with Governor Warren T Rat, who will fill you in on the details. With my royal warrant, you shall have his full cooperation and assistance. Good luck and may the Great Owl watch over you!" Josh bowed his head.
"I'm honoured with this mission, Your Majesty. I won't fail you."
Nicodemus smiled warmly at his Quaestor, his full trust in Josh obvious. Behind him, Princess Isabella was beaming, as she waved at Josh, wishing him luck. Neither of them however noticed Jenner standing a little way away, whispering something into Sullivan's ear. Had Nicodemus noticed the sinister look written on his evil nephew's face, he might have realised Josh's concerns regarding Jenner's loyalty were well justified.
Josh boarded his royal carriage and Justin gave the word to depart. The procession departed Rosebush City, heading east, towards Minsk, a three-day hard ride through the desert. Back at the palace, Jenner and Sullivan, after watching the procession leave, had retreated to a private spot and were having a rather heated conversation, plotting their next move.
"...At last, he is going!" Jenner was saying, "Is everything set, as I ordered?"
"This is madness, Jenner," protested Sullivan, feeling nauseous with fear and anticipation, "The human will see through this scam instantly. If we're caught, the Council will have both our heads for high treason!"
"Not if I have his head first...for the murder of the King!" said Jenner, rubbing his hands triumphantly, "I should have done this from the start – and this way, we kill two birds with one stone!"
Following his previous two failures and tired of that accursed human beating him at every turn, Jenner had finally come to the conclusion that the only way to eliminate this hindrance that stood between him and the Stone was to murder his Uncle – and use the death of Nicodemus as a means of ruining Anderson once and for all. If that insufferable human thought he could evade him forever, he was in for a big surprise.
"I don't get it; why not just kill Nicodemus now?" asked Sullivan, "Why push our luck by waiting until the human returns?" Jenner rolled his eyes incredulously.
"Because, you imbecile, I'm not giving up on the Stone! Even the throne is breadcrumbs compared to that! If my Uncle's theory is correct and that third piece is indeed somewhere at Minsk, then why waste the opportunity? We'll let the human find it for us and then we dispose of him and Nicodemus too!"
"And what about the Brisby family and the Mousekewitzes?" asked Sullivan, "Or Justin and Brutus?"
"I'll have them all dealt with nice and quietly once the human is properly disposed of," grinned Jenner, "Just as I will with anyone else who'll dare stand in my way..."
Jenner's fierce and bloodthirsty resolve made Sullivan's insides twist up. Although he shared his master's beliefs of Rat supremacy, this was going too far for his liking. Jenner was about to commit the ultimate crime any Rat could possibly do: murder the king, his own uncle nonetheless, to seize the throne and the Stone with it. No doubt he'd then proceed to exploit its secrets to further his dark ambitions for yet more power, until he was supreme master of this entire planet and all and any opposition was brutally suppressed. The thought alone horrified Sullivan.
Jenner, who seemed to notice his squeamish aid's reluctance, fixed Sullivan with a deadly gaze, "Remember, my slippery friend, you're already in this up to your neck. If one word slips your tongue, you'll find yourself and whoever you've spoken to shackled to a dungeon wall with your entrails flayed open. Do I make myself clear?" Trembling, Sullivan nodded. Satisfied, Jenner took out the evidence he had prepared to frame Josh with: the astronaut's dog-tags, taken from Teresa Brisby by Castor and given to Sullivan, which Jenner had secretly kept all this time, waiting for the right moment.
Should Nicodemus be murdered, he knew, a manhunt would start immediately, to find the assassin and have him executed for treason. And Jenner was determined to have Josh Anderson's head mounted on his trophy wall before the winter started.
The procession to Minsk made good time during the first day on the road. The interior of the carriage was surprisingly spacious, set up like an elaborate mobile lounge on wheels, with carved wooden panelling, mahogany seats, a writing desk and even a dining table, complete with expensive china and silk curtains. Elizabeth's children were ecstatic about travelling like real aristocrats for the first time in their lives and couldn't resist playing around inside the carriage, jumping all over the seats, much to Mr Ages' annoyance, or helping themselves to the delicious snacks and drinks provided in the carriage's heavily stocked snack-box.
After riding all day, they'd stop at sundown, make camp, before setting off again the next morning. On the first evening out, while Justin's troops built campfires and set up a defensive perimeter for the night, Josh had climbed to the top of a nearby hill for a better view of his surroundings. As part of this trip, he had brought with him his deceased crew's field kits, which he'd salvaged from the REMO. Once again, he was an astronaut, doing scientific study on the surface of a new planet.
Out here, away from the vestige of the Rats' civilization, Nimh-Beta was just a barren, inhospitable wasteland. Even with the addition of a breathable atmosphere, the landscape had hardly changed over the millennia.
As far out as the eye could see, there was nothing but sand, blackish-red rocks, smoothened over millions of years of raging sandstorms, and old meteorite craters. The desert floor, although barren, was covered in permafrost, which had frozen solid from the dropping temperatures of the approaching Nimh-Beta night. In the distance, he could see several dust devils kicking up all around the desert terrain.
Opening up Dr Schultz's astrobiology kit, he collected several soil samples and did a chemical analysis. There were only a few traces of carbohydrates; all the nitrogen was locked into the nitrates that made up much of the Nimh-Beta soil. Nothing could grow here, even the most rugged terrestrial shrubs or weeds. So how had his crew managed to terraform this planet in the first place? Unless he could figure out how, there was no way of creating more habitable land out of this crummy desert, to accommodate the rapidly growing Rat population.
Setting up his weather-meter, he took a weather reading. Wind conditions were mild, but the temperature had been dropping rapidly these past few days. The planet's solar winter was approaching fast, with the Nimh sister planets planet nearing the aphelion of their orbit. Within a week or so, the entire surface would freeze over, making venturing outside almost impossible. That was the time of year when all the Rats receded to the safety of their underground cities to wait out the winter.
Nicodemus had warned Josh to make their visit to Minsk as brief as possible, so they could make it back to Rosebush City for the winter. Josh knew the Rats were already stockpiling food and firewood, to be prepared for when the cold would hit.
Returning to camp, he joined Elizabeth and the others for dinner around their campfire. The servants had prepared an exquisite dinner for them all, making it look like a luxurious camping trip. That night, they settled down to sleep in the carriage's pull-down beds, with Justin's guards restlessly patrolling outside for bandits.
The second day also passed uneventfully; but then, on the third day on the road, as they were nearing Minsk, they finally run into trouble. The morning had started with some annoying dust devils blowing up all around. But that had soon escalated into a violent sandstorm, a common phenomenon in a desert, temperature-shifting environment such as this.
With visibility reduced to zero and with sand bombarding everything in its path, the expedition soon came to a complete standstill. Two of Justin's soldiers had gotten separated from the group and were lost in the storm; the servant's carriage was also lost with all hands when it accidentally drove blindly over the edge of a gorge. To add to their troubles, the rabbits, driven mad by the bombarding sand, had gone insane, broken free of their reigns and disappeared into the storm, leaving them stranded.
The reminder of the group huddled inside the immobilised carriage, their only refuge, trying to figure out what to do. With no sense of direction and with no further means of transport, they were in trouble. There was no point just staying put and waiting out the storm; these desert sandstorms, Josh knew from his astronaut training, could cover hundreds of miles and last for weeks on end. By the time it died down, they would have run out of food and starved. But Josh wasn't about to just sit there and hope for the best.
While Elizabeth tried comforting her scared children, Josh, Justin and Mr Ages were sitting by candlelight over at the writing desk, watching the laptop Josh had set up. Among his crew's kits there was Dr Stetson's satellite imagery computer, which had uplinks to all the satellites the NIMH-One's crew had positioned in orbit around the planet long ago and most of which were luckily still functioning.
The screen zoomed in on a large cloud of sand and dust over 500 miles across, moving in from the south. A small red dot marked their position close to the edge of the storm. Josh paled; it seemed what they were seeing was only the beginning. Pretty soon, the storm was going to get a lot worse, up to the point that the winds could sandblast the skin clean off a person's body, and they were sitting ducks. They had to find a way out of this and fast.
"Pressing on this way is suicide," said Josh, "We'd only be heading deeper into the storm. But, if we divert north-northeast, by my calculations, we should go around the storm, until we're in the clear."
"But how will we know which way to go? We can't see the sky for a visual reference..."
"What about using a compass?" asked Josh. Justin and Ages both gave him a blank stare.
"A what?"
The Rats didn't have any navigational instruments; they simply relied on the position of the suns and the stars to find their way. Unfortunately, in a blinding sandstorm, dead-reckoning was no good. But a compass would make all the difference. So, they had to make one.
Taking a large goblet from the carriage's drinks cupboard, Josh filled it with water and set it on the table. Rampaging through Dr Boniface's medical kit, he took out a surgical needle. Rubbing it on his forearm to build up a static charge, he placed it on a small strip of plastic floating in the goblet. They all watched as the needle began to move, aligning itself with north. Josh grinned. It was working!
Comparing the readouts on his new compass with his satellite imagery feedback, he pointed out the right-hand window of the carriage, "That's the way out, chaps!"
"Fine, and how to you expect us to walk there?" grumbled a drenched-from-head-to-toe-in-sand Brutus, as he entered the carriage, rubbing sand from his eyes, "We'd all be separated and lost before we even get ten paces..."
"Simple: we pull the carriage instead," said Josh, "We'll take turns in groups of four to pull the carriage along with everyone riding in it. Tell your soldiers to get in here and start off-loading the furniture and everything else we can spare. We have to lighten this thing as much as possible."
Brutus seemed to want to protest the outrageous idea of dignified Rat soldiers pulling a carriage along like common slaves, much less vandalising royal property, but with the lives of his comrades on the line, he swallowed his pride and ordered the remaining Rat soldiers to get to work.
The carriage's interior was stripped of all its furnishings and luxury items, to lighten it enough for four of the burliest Rats in Justin's garrison, including Brutus, to pull it along, taking up the positions previously occupied by the rabbits. The curtains of the carriage were torn down and made into makeshift balaclavas to protect their eyes from the flying sand.
On Josh's directions, they diverted northeast, moving impossibly slow. Every two hours, the Rats would change shifts and another quartet would pull the carriage along, while the others rested inside. They travelled for hours, but seeing no signs of the storm clearing around them.
Josh eventually took his turn with Justin and two other thoroughly exhausted Rats. By now, their strength had almost completely given out. Then, suddenly, Justin noticed the air was clearing; they could see daylight again and the sand was slowly settling. They had reached the edge of the storm!
Giving his human friend the thumbs-up, they continued pulling. In spite of their exhaustion, the sight of the dissipating storm had completely renewed their hopes. At last, the winds died down completely and the empty desert terrain, covered by the clear pinkish-cyan sky, stretched out to the horizon before them. They had lost six Rats, but the rest of the group were alive and well, thanks to Josh's quick thinking.
Looking behind him, Josh watched the gigantic storm slowly moving away towards the south. They were in the clear. The children and Elizabeth disembarked from the stricken carriage and run up to embrace him, cheering and singing their praises. Once again, Josh had gotten them out of a tight scrape safe and sound. Elizabeth grabbed him into a passionate kiss.
"Whatever would I do without you?"
Around them, the Rats were cheering as well and, in some cases, making kissing faces at Josh and Elizabeth. Brutus noticed them and frowned.
"What are you lot gawping at, like a bunch of immature young Rats?" he barked, "You're still on active duty! Come on, back to your posts!" Being a somewhat bullying Sergeant, Brutus always knew how to keep troopers in line out on the field. After all, they still had a long way to go and no time for enjoying childish romances.
After a brief rest, it was decided that there was no point carrying on by carriage and that they would make up for lost time better on foot. According to Justin, Minsk was now within walking distance, on the other side of a ridge in the distance. So, grabbing whatever useful they could salvage from the carriage, they set off.
They trekked through the day without any further incident and reached Minsk by nightfall. Like Rosebush City, Minsk was another subterranean rodent city, built inside a honeycombed sandstone rock formation that resembled a giant hump. One of the distinct geological features of Nimh-Beta were the many underground rock caverns, formed by underground glaciers from geothermal columns of water forcing their way up through the crust and then melted when the planet had warmed up after being terraformed. These immense networks of underground caverns, well insulated from the cold above ground, were the perfect spots for the Rats and Mice of Nimh-Beta to build their civilizations.
Unlike Rosebush City, which was situated in a green region, the Rock of Minsk was in the middle of nowhere. Around the rock, Josh could see many dead plantations, which had once been farmland, now long abandoned due to lack of water. The inhabitants, he had been told by Nicodemus, now relied heavily on trade for their food, which came from the local mines that made up the province's economy.
Following a famine and subsequent revolution that had led to the collapse of the former mouse government three years ago, the Rats had moved in, turning Minsk into a province for the Empire. Part of its function was that of a penal colony for mice that refused to swear allegiance to the Rats, who were made to work for the Governor in the mines.
Arriving at the main entrance to the city – the mouth of a cavern leading deep into the rock, sealed off by a solid wooden gate, they met two Rat guards in uniform standing at attention, staring suspiciously at the sight of them. Josh couldn't blame them; rather than looking like a proper, elegant visiting court official, Josh and his party looked more like dirty, hungry and tired refugees following their hardships out in the desert. Justin took charge and spoke to the guard in charge.
"I'm Captain Justin Wilson of the Royal Garrison of Rosebush City. I'm bringing in the new province Commissioner to King Nicodemus. Open the gates!"
For a moment, the guard stared wide-eyed at Josh; although word of this mysterious human from the stars, who was now working for the King, had spread throughout the entire kingdom these past few weeks, many Rats still found it shocking, being in the presence of a human – the epitome of all evil, according to their misleading holy scriptures. But, noticing Justin's stern gaze at his rudely staring at a high-ranking official, he got the message.
"Ah...yes, sir, right away." Pulling an awkward-looking horn from his belt, he blew three loud honks, which Josh figured was a signal of sorts. A slot opened in the gate, revealing the face of another guard inside.
"Open the gates for the Commissioner of Minsk!"
There was the sound of a heavy dead-bolt being drawn and then the gates slid open. The tunnel inside was lined with flaming torches, with armed guards standing at attention along the walls. Josh's party was marched along the tunnel and into the city of Minsk. The tunnel led into a vast cavern, divided into many different levels by stone bridges and walkways, which were lined with alcoves, which were the houses and shops for the Mice of Minsk. Josh didn't fail to notice that there were many Rat guards patrolling all the streets, keeping a close eye on all the mice going about their business. Security was strangely tight around here, he thought.
Fievel was staring at the familiar surroundings of his former hometown, feeling rather uneasy. It seemed like a lifetime ago when the city's underground river had dried up, creating the drought that had destroyed all of the Minsk farmers' crops, including his Papa's, and starting a revolt amongst the people. Then the Rats had moved in and declared martial law, seizing the city for themselves. All wealthy landowners who refused to surrender their land to the Crown had been driven out of their houses, lynched and then executed or imprisoned.
The Mousekewitz family, impoverished and in danger of persecution by their former labourers, had tried to flee, but their parents hadn't made it out. Bernard Mousekewitz, trying to help his pregnant wife along, had fallen behind, seized by a group of rebels and seemingly killed. Tanya had barely managed to get her little brother to safety. Then, while trekking through the desert with a group of merchants, hoping to seek sanctuary in Rosebush City, which was neutral territory for immigrant mice, they'd run afoul of the Exiles, who'd taken him prisoner, demanding his 'father's secret'. Fievel, of course, had had no idea what that secret was, or why the Exiles were so interested in it. Maybe Josh could help him answer that riddle, now that he was managing his and Tanya's inheritance, what was left of it anyway.
Elizabeth, the children and Mr Ages were shown to their hotel, where comfortable accommodations had been prepared in advance for their arrival. Josh, Justin and Brutus were escorted to the governor's dwelling, where their host awaited them.
Governor Warren T Rat's residence was much more spacious and luxurious than the cramped mouse dwellings scattered around the city. This neighbourhood, completely off-limits to mice, was reserved for wealthy Rat officials only. The city's Captain of the Guards, a bull of a Rat called Jake and the Governor's right hand, led them into the aristocratic parlour.
Warren T was an obese, burly Rat with a nose like a pug and a sly smile that made Josh's skin crawl. The Governor of Minsk sat in a posh armchair in his study, watching his assistant and personal accountant Digit, a dwarf of a Rat sitting at a nearby desk, counting large sums of gold coins and recording figures in a ledger. He stood up to greet the newcomers.
"Ah, the new Commissioner has arrived at last!" he greeted Josh, bowing his head with a wide smile of welcome, shaking hands with Josh, "What an honour this is to grace me with your presence. Welcome to Minsk. Please come in and make yourselves at home!" He turned to his assistant, "That will be all for now, Digit, thank you."
"Yes, sir, we've collected 8,700 gold pieces and 1,300 in silver from the taxpayers," the bold-headed Rat was saying, lost in his own work, "And we've got another 17 of them overdue with their water taxes, to be evicted..."
"I said that's enough, Digit!" barked Warren T, angry at his assistant's blunder, "Now, kindly leave the room!" Realising he was not wanted here at this very moment and knowing his master's zero's tolerance for mistakes, he hurryingly picked up the ledgers and bags of tax money and hurried out. Warren T turned back to his guests.
"My apologies, Commissioner, but my assistant is a little bit overworked lately..." Josh however, who had overheard what Digit had just said, was suddenly struck with suspicion.
"What was he talking about, about overdue taxpayers being evicted? What's all this about taxes on water...?" Back on Earth, even with natural resources dwindling, drinking water was a commodity to which everybody was entitled to, free of charge, as was the air they breathed.
"Forgive me, Commissioner, but I believe you haven't been fully informed of the situation here," said Warren T Rat, trying to explain himself, "Minsk has fallen on hard times, I'm afraid. The city's well is completely dried up. We've got a strict rationing scheme going on, in order to provide water for everyone. I have digging crews constantly tapping into the well, trying to find more water." Josh however wasn't buying this.
"But taxing the people for a drink of water?"
"An unfortunate, but necessary drastic measure," said Warren T, "Their tax money is what pays to have our water imported from other provinces, until we can provide for ourselves again. I've got the best miners working day and night, trying to solve the problem. And Warren T Rat's word is his word of honour!"
However, Josh still had a very bad feeling about Governor Warren T Rat. Something was awfully off about this fellow and Josh didn't want to have to find out what it was the hard way. Maybe he ought to inspect the well himself... But first, he had another pressing matter to discuss with Warren T.
"Can you tell me anything about the Mousekewitz family?" He carefully watched as Warren T Rat fixed him with an uneasy gaze. Whatever he was hiding, it definitely meant avoiding this topic at all costs and now there was no way out.
"The Mousekewitzes were a respectful and prosperous family in these parts," he said, lowering his head in, what appeared to be, sorrow, "Such a tragedy that they were killed by those miserable rioters..."
"So I've been told," said Josh, "You will be gratified to know that the Mousekewitz son survived and I'm now his guardian, which is why I'm here." He watched as Warren T's expression froze, but he quickly managed to hide it.
"If it isn't too much trouble, I would like to see any records you have on the Mousekewitz estate, as well as inspect their old home," Josh continued, "Can this can be arranged for tomorrow morning?"
"I'm sure Digit will have no objection digging up the files from the Keeper of Records' office," said Warren T, "As for the Mousekewitz home, it's still here, but it's in a state of disrepair. I doubt you'll find anything of interest..."
"I'll be the judge of that, if you don't mind," said Josh sharply, "Now, on to our next subject: what is this I hear about a rebellion?"
"Just common riff-raff stirring up trouble, that's all," spat Warren T, not bothering to hide his disgust, "Mostly mice anarchists, posing as patriots, who seek to restore the old order. They vandalise, steal, or simply rally the civilians against us. And after all I've done for this community..."
Josh didn't know what to make of Warren T Rat's explanation. Although this water rationing scheme seemed justified, given the circumstances, he still had this gut feeling that he was being lied to for some reason. And he couldn't help but feel that this rebellion threat and the dried-up well of Minsk were somehow connected. However, it was getting late, so he soon bid Warren T Rat goodnight and returned to his hotel to get some shuteye, planning to continue his inspection in the morning, after he'd gotten a good night's sleep.
After Josh had left him, Warren T Rat sat thinking. It was clear this new Commissioner the King had sent along was dangerous, a threat to his plans. Unless he did something, his entire operation would be blown. He needed to act now. After Josh had gone, he summoned his henchman Captain Jake back in.
"I want you to have someone keep a close eye on this Commissioner Anderson," he said, "That human will mean trouble if he finds out too much. We can't let him find out about the cover-up."
"Indeed not, sir," muttered Captain Jake in agreement, "Maybe I ought to slit his throat right now..." He caressed the blade of a razor-sharp dagger – one which had already claimed the lives of several past victims for nosing around in his master's affairs. Warren T Rat gave him an incredulous look.
"Don't be such a fool!" he snapped, "You kill a royal official on my turf and we'll all be decapitated for high treason!" Doing some hard thinking he spoke again.
"I want the Mousekewitz boy," he said, "He's the immediate threat. Tail him and, first chance you get, grab him. That brat has to disappear, again."
"And the human?"
"I suggest we give him what he's looking for," said Warren T Rat, "He was sent here to help us crush the rebels. So why not present him with a culprit?" If they could find a good scapegoat to take the fall for the rebellion, not only would it shift all suspicion away from them, but also it might help him finally accomplish his ultimate plan, which just so happened to involve the long-forgotten Mousekewitz family...
Far away, back at Rosebush City, someone else was setting his own sinister plans in motion. In the dark of night, with the royal family and most of the palace staff asleep, Jenner made his way downstairs to the palace wine cellar. This was where his Uncle kept his private supply of some of the finest vintages in the whole kingdom.
Jenner knew Nicodemus' habits well: his Uncle enjoyed a glass of rosemary-scented wine in his study every evening without fail. This vintage beverage of his was kept stored down here in wooden kegs. A servant would bring him his evening drink in a crystal goblet, which was just perfect for Jenner's plan.
The winery was usually kept locked, to prevent thievery, but never guarded. Taking out a pair of keys, which Sullivan had nicked from Arthur, on his orders, Jenner entered the winery carrying a flaming torch for light. The stone room was lined with barrels and kegs of many different wines, usually kept for royal banquets. But Jenner wasn't here to get a drink.
Finding the keg he was looking for, easily distinguishable because of the odour of sweetened wine inside it, he popped the cork off the top and took out a small bottle of some dark, greenish liquid from inside his cloak. This was a fast-acting and deadly poison, for which there was no known antidote, and which he was about to serve up as a special gift to his Uncle.
Grinning evilly, he emptied the bottle's lethal contents into the keg. Tomorrow night, he figured, someone would come down here to bring his Uncle his evening drink as usual – only this would be the last drink he would ever have in the world of the living.
Closing up the keg again, leaving it just as he'd found it, he took the now empty poison bottle and wrapped the chain with Josh's dog-tags around it. Then, he tossed them onto the floor and kicked them into the shadows under a wine-rack. It wouldn't take long for the court physicians to determine Nicodemus had died of poisoning and then there would be a full investigation to apprehend the murderer, starting from this wine cellar.
Once the dog-tags and murder weapon were found at the scene of the crime, it wouldn't take long for the entire court to buy the bluff that Quaestor Anderson was a traitor and an assassin. The entire kingdom would want his head on a silver platter the moment he returned with the last piece of the Stone.
Once that insufferable human who dared cross him was tried and executed for the crime, he, Jenner, the next in line of succession to the throne would finally have the kingdom of his dreams: a vast empire of absolute Rat supremacy, using the powers of the fully reassembled Stone to enforce his rule to the farthest ends of this world!
Making sure he'd left no signs of his presence here, Jenner departed, noiselessly making his way back upstairs to his chambers. Passing by a balcony, he was startled to hear a feminine voice talking. Hastily ducking into the shadows behind a suit of armour, he surveyed the scene. It was the Mousekewitz servant-girl, the little troublemaker who had befriended that accursed human. Curious to find out what she was doing out here in the middle of the night, he quietly approached for a closer look.
He could see his cousin Isabella's maid fiddling with something which, he suddenly realised, was a human contraption of some kind, no doubt another of Anderson's foul human devices. How had she gotten hold of it? Jenner felt tempted to make his presence known and confiscate the device, but his instinct told him not to intervene, instead making a mental note to keep a close eye on the little Mousekewitz tart from here on. That foolish girl was no doubt another loyal ally of Anderson's, who had to be closely watched...
Author's note: Another chapter is up! I was stuck for weeks, torn between different drafts I'd been working on. Until next time! Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!
