It's been far too long between updates – sorry folks! I do honestly have a long list of depressing reasons – anyone who cares can e-mail me for details, but sufficeth to say that they involve my parents, MS, a nursing home and a hospital.

Anyway, where were we? Frollo had released Esmeralda with a bag of cash to set her up for life (and probably most of her friends as well). She has headed for the cathedral. Phoebus is shortly to be married to Fleur DeLys. Frollo has been imprisoned by the King for allowing the gypsies to run free in Paris. The former Minister of Justice is languishing in his cell while outside the gypsies (and Quasimodo) are unaware of the change of circumstances.

Esmeralda entered the cathedral, bolting past the archdeacon and heading straight up the spiral staircase. She burst into the ante-room below the belfry, searching for Quasimodo. The hunchback was huddled over a model of the Palace of Justice, repairing a broken castellation.

"Quasi!" Esmeralda ran over to Quasimodo and took his hands in hers.

"What is it Esme? Are you alright?"

"Yes – Frollo said he was letting me go. I think he's in trouble Quasi. He says he was attacked by a prisoner and then killed in self-defence, but there's more to it than that." Quasimodo walked away from Esmeralda and stared out at the city. "Quasi – did you hear what I said?"

"The city's changing."

"Pardon?" Esmeralda walked up to the window.

"Can't you see it Esme?" whispered a voice from behind a pillar. Esmeralda spun around, ready to defend herself and the hunchback from the voice. As the figure walked into the light, Esmeralda relaxed as Clopin's sharp features came into focus. "Every night, a small division of soldiers leaves the Palace of Justice on Frollo's orders to patrol the streets as a show of force to ensure none of the gypsies are breaking the law."

"Yes? And?" snapped Esmeralda.

"Look down there. And stop looking at it like a noble, watching the colours flash by while you waltz around your oh-so-important life. Look at the streets like a gypsy."

Esmeralda looked down. There was the nightwatch, a group of surly soldiers in the traditional garb. The watch usually rode out in groups of four, a miniature show of force that was almost unnecessary thanks to the gypsies' adherence to the curfew. There were six soldiers in this group. Perhaps there had been trouble tonight. As Esmeralda continued to watch, she saw more and more groups of soldiers, cantering through streets. She watched as gypsies, unused now to expecting trouble from the soldiers for no good reason, scrambled for escape as they realised too late that the law had changed.

"You told me yesterday that Frollo was determined to keep the gypsies safe," drawled Clopin.

"He was – he is…" stammered Esmeralda, tearing herself away from the image of gypsies being corralled into the town square. A group of soldiers detached from the cluster in the square and headed towards the cathedral.

"Were you followed?" demanded Clopin.

"No. You?"

"Of course not. So why…" Both gypsies turned towards Quasimodo as realisation dawned.

"There's a back door. They won't have surrounded the cathedral yet." Esmeralda grabbed Quasimodo's arm. "We have to leave. I know a few places they won't look for a while – we can hide there until we find out what is going on."

"Why do I need to leave? This is my home." Quasimodo looked desperately around the room.

"Quasi, Claude always promised to take care of my people and of you, right?"

"Right," answered Quasi, while in the background Clopin rolled his eyes and muttered "Claude!"

"He would never do this. But I think someone is sending soldiers after you right now and we have to get out of here. We have to help him."

"Okay."

"Quickly, before they get to the stairs," urged Clopin.

Staring out at the night through the barred window above him, Frollo sighed again. As expected, various screams and protestations from outside revealed that the new Minister of Justice was dispensing justice with the red-hot-poker style enthusiasm that he would previously have approved of. It wouldn't be long now before all the gypsies were rounded up and either killed or transported out of the city. The previous king had been more sympathetic to the Romany travellers, but this new one… Frollo was right behind the correct dispensation of punishment, preferably to the point of redeeming the offender's soul. However, while he would admit to occasionally enjoying the sight of a hardened criminal reduced to a gibbering wreck, he did not revel in unnecessary punishment (whilst, of course, being bang alongside necessary punishment. There were, Frollo felt, sufficient reasons for necessary punishment - such as being the wrong creed, the wrong nationality, the wrong-sort-of-person-in-the-worng-place-at-the-wrong-time - without resorting to unnecessary punishment). The new king lusted for power and if that power could be gained at the point of a sword, so much the better. Or at the tip of the aforementioned poker, or a cat-of-nine-tails, depending on his majesty's mood. Frollo knew now he had been a fool to think that the king could have ever wanted to include the gypsies in Parisian society. Frowning in the darkness, knowing now that Minister Bourbon would be torturing gypsies even as he sat there, stewing in his prison cell, Frollo tried to think of an escape plan. The high walls and thick oak door stared back, mocking him with the inevitable failure of any escape attempt. Damn his thoroughness in designing that dungeon…
Esmeralda dragged Quasimodo and Clopin through a doorway and the three panted for breath.

"Great idea Esme, ten out of ten," gasped Clopin. "Who else would have thought of hiding from the soldiers in the barracks."

"Clopin, where are all the soldiers at the moment?"

"On the streets. But after they've patrolled the streets, they'll come back here and then we are dead."

"Only if he's not here…" Esmeralda darted quickly down a corridor, counting doors as she went. As she got to number fourteen, she rapped smartly onto the door. A dishevelled Phoebus opened it. Quasimodo and Clopin raised their eyebrows inquisitively. "I found out where Phoebus' room was some time ago, just in case. Can we come in?" she turned to Phoebus, her eyes wide and appealing. Phoebus waved the group in, checked for spies in the corridor, and shut the door.

Sorry it's been so long - the next chapter is on its way - I promise!