Winter had once again arrived with a bitter cold and Frollo was taking the necessary steps to ensure that the bell tower would be warm enough to prevent Quasimodo from freezing to death.

It had been over a year since the Minister had agreed to take on the responsibility of parenthood; though he tried to keep his visitation to a minimum, Quasimodo still waved his small arms and smiled happily at seeing his father figure. The same could not be said for his adopted uncle Jehan, as Quasimodo always seemed slightly apprehensive about the student's presence. Whenever the young man would come to see his brother in the tower, it was almost as though the child could sense the contempt that the Minister held for him.

Frollo had brought more blankets for the child and had allowed him to crawl around on the floor during this visit. Lately the boy had attempted to shakily stand up on his own, but it proved difficult since his short legs were bowed which slowed most of the progress. Not to mention that he hadn't even started repeating any words—no matter how elementary—which worried the judge that he might be more invalid than originally thought.

"You wanted to see me, Claude?"

Picking up the boy and sitting him down on the wooden table, Frollo turned to his brother reaching the top of the steps. "Yes. I have matters that I must discuss with you."

Jehan pursed his lips and approached his brother. "Any luck today?" he asked regarding the child's abilities. He looked down at Quasimodo, who seemed to be eyeing the teen suspiciously. He cried out and reached his small hands toward the Minister, no doubt in more discomfort from the new teeth coming in.

"None whatsoever." Frollo glanced back at the hunchbacked boy before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a raw licorice stick to give to him to chew on, instantly quieting him. He sighed heavily. "Now, there is something that I must painstakingly ask of you, Jehan."

"It can't possibly be anything that you've already asked of me tenfold, could it?" he replied. "I have already explained to you, that my mistakes are simply "learning experiences" that are through no faul-"

"Please, I have heard this excuse so many times that it has since lost any value left in it. Just shut up and listen to me for once!"

His blue eyes widened at his brother's tone of voice, instantly heeding his words.

Collecting himself, Frollo carried on, "I understand that you particularly enjoy gambling down on the Rue de Glatigny."

Jehan shifted his eyes away from his brother's stone gray ones. "You know, Claude, people will weave whatever lies they can to-"

"If you cease with trying to impress me with this innocent façade, then I can explain the situation more quickly." His face evidenced tension and hesitance to address the issue at hand; whatever the judge had to say was obviously not going to be easy for him and Jehan did not see any reason to aggravate him further. "Given that you frequent these establishments of ill repute, then I am confident that you are familiar with a man named Henry Cezanne?"

Jehan simply shrugged. "I might have thrown a few dice with the man at one of the taverns. Why do you ask?"

"The man is not only a spy, but has also been assisting gypsies enter the city illegally, Jehan," Frollo answered, a vein pulsating on the side of his forehead. "You know as well as I that the Lord's Book itself instructs that the only way to kill a snake is to cut off its head. The man is as slippery as he is treacherous and it my duty to bring him to justice, especially one who has the audacity to mingle with such a low race in my jurisdiction. My previous attempts to eradicate such activity have all been in vain, therefore I to must look for another approach."

"What does this have to do with me?" Jehan asked impatiently.

The judge sighed again and rolled his eyes. "I have formulated a plan to capture him, but unfortunately…I would require your assistance."

The boy was taken aback before emitting a smug grin then a mocking laugh. His arrogance did not soothe his brother's frayed nerves and made him feel even more pathetic for having to rely on someone as ignorant as this miscreant. Frollo simply crossed his arms and waited for his brother to calm himself.

"You need my help?" Jehan repeated with a taunting satisfaction. "Claude, did you by any chance injure your head today? Or have you simply hitting the bottle a tad too much lately? Why on earth would you need my help?"

Gripping the wooden table behind him to avoid lashing out at the Jehan, the judge elaborated, "I require a pawn of sorts on the inside, and since you are a regular at these taverns, you would not raise any suspicion as opposed to myself sending in one of my enforcements to pose as a patron, since it has proven to be an ineffective method. And it would be much too risky to send in some lost soul off the street; any one of them could be a potential lackey to another lawless fugitive."

This boy is much too stupid to have gotten involved with some crime lord anyway, Frollo thought cynically. Luckily Jehan still showed some loyalty to his elder brother, no matter how much it was shrouded in his own selfishness. Jehan might have bluffed about blackmailing his brother previously, but even he was no sidewinder when it came to taking sides…especially when that side was the one providing him his allowance.

"Your angle would be to lure Cezanne out to allow my men to arrest him. I am asking you as my brother to do this," Frollo continued.

Jehan looked doubtfully at the Minister. "I see. And what would I receive as payment for my service in your plan, brother?"

The elder frowned at such a request. "I believe that you continuing to run amuck with the filth of Paris at my own expense is payment enough in itself; I already fund everything else that you indulge yourself in."

Jehan folded his arms. "With such an attitude you can find yourself another mole then! Twenty pieces of silver!"

The Minister would not admit that he was indeed out of options and therefore could only try to appeal to the boy's demands to an extent. "Avaricious vulgarian! I'll give you five."

"Twenty." Jehan's smile was one of good humor and innocence which he prayed would influence his brother to concede. However, the judge remained unmoved by such a charade; he would not stoop lower to give into such demands so easily. "Fifteen then?"

Frollo's expression soured as he reluctantly considered this bargain. It was a shame the boy had never quite grasped the concept of greed being a deadly sin. "Ten. Nothing more," he stated coldly.

Jehan shook his curly head. "Very well, Claude. Ten it is!" He extended his small hand to shake on it, Frollo's own grip threatening to break it.

"Grow up," the Minister remarked as his brother hissed and clutched at his hand.

"If I may," Jehan said, straightening up. "Why the sudden interest to capture criminals at the source? Usually don't you wait it out until your men arrest them?"

Frollo exhaled solemnly. "I cannot take any chances. Ever since those parlement oafs in Toulouse pardoned François Villon to banishment instead of hanging—as I had rightfully sentenced—I cannot let these lowlifes assume that my power has been diminished! I must ensure that all lawbreakers suffer the rightful justice as is proclaimed by God. And my job is not about lying in wait, Jehan."

"Right then," the younger then said. "Well, I should be off, since I have plans with a certain Isabeau la Thierrye tonight. Good day, brother!"

Before he could stride off into another lecherous evening of pleasure, Frollo quickly grabbed his wiry arm. "I think not," he retorted, keeping his brother planted.

Stumped at this, the boy questioned the meaning of this, to which Frollo answered, "We have matters to discuss and I'm positive that you can skip one night of your licentiousness to do so, lest you would rather me not provide you with the monetary means to enjoy these pastimes."

Jehan looked dumbfounded at the judge. "But Claude!" he childishly whined.

Frollo opened his mouth to chide him over his behavior, but before he could, a small voice from behind cried out, "Cloud!"

The two looked at each other in surprise and turned their attention to where Quasimodo still sat atop the table and once again cried, "Cloud!"

The Minister's eyes widened in disbelief and his mouth hung agape, while Jehan was thrown into a fit of laughter.

Quasimodo cherubically smiled at his caretaker before repeating his new word again.

Frollo glared spitefully at his brother. "Now look what you've done!" he snarled, motioning towards the boy.

Jehan's face was bright red from the hilarity of the situation; his brother's own seemed to color itself a similar tint, though from embarrassment and not amusement.

Gripping Claude's shoulder, the younger one said, "Please, he was bound to learn that sooner or later. Besides, a child's first word is supposed to be one of the proudest moments of being a parent, right? At least you know now that he's not mute or invalid!"

"I suppose," Frollo responded dryly as he glared at the smiling child. "It would take a miracle for him to be able to walk though. I will figure out a proper title for him to address me by in time."

Patting his brother on the shoulder, Jehan mockingly said, "You're going to be a great father, Claude!"

X

Though Jehan was known to frequent La Falourdel's for most of his drinks and seeking company with his favorite strumpets, his brother had received information that Cezanne had been seen in one of the other taverns on the Rue de Glatigny. The place was a haven for carousers like him could spend their evenings in debauched bliss, but the bane for law makers such as Claude, who worked hard to eradicate the infestation of prostitutes.

Pulling his black cloak over his head, Frollo turned to his younger brother. "You understand the task at hand, or must I explain it again?" he asked bitingly.

Jehan smiled confidently. "Don't worry, Claude. I am well aware of what to do and you can count on me."

The judge cast him a doubtful look. He might have made it seem like Jehan could fully handle this assignment, but in case something should go awry he had conjured a few backup plans. Trusting the boy completely would be like riding a blind horse into battle anyway.

Before the blond haired hellion could head off into the fray, Frollo yanked him back and warned him, "If you lose yourself to the power of drink tonight and neglect to do your part, then you can forget about me paying you!"

Snatching his arm away, Jehan retorted, "Have some faith in me! I promise you will have Cezanne by the end of the night!" Without another word, the boy sauntered off towards the tavern.

As Frollo slipped into the darkness with the place in view, he inwardly prayed that his brother would be safe considering he was short on family.

He is the only one left, he mulled.

Frollo had posted numerous guards around the shady establishment, who also hid themselves behind walls and in alleys, weapons at the ready for the Minister's command; though he hoped that such excessive reinforcements would not be necessary for this operation.

Underneath his stoic demeanor, Frollo could feel anxiety rising at the thought of his brother actually helping him in trying to apprehend a criminal. The very thought unsettled him: his once innocent baby brother was going to use his drinking and gambling as ploy to lure out a known felon.

Be careful Jehan, he thought as he eyed the tavern warily.

X

The teen deeply inhaled the familiar scent of cheap wine and swill pervading the familiar locale. His fellow patrons filled their gullets with spirits, cursed like sailors, and burned through their earnings on gambling. Such establishments had always been homes away from home for Jehan as he strode through.

"Jehan!" called a boisterous voice that could match his own. The boy smiled as his friend made his way towards him with two bottles in hand. With a plain black doublet, short unruly brown hair, and a trustworthy face, this handsome boy could not have passed for a delinquent at first glance. However, he equated Jehan's form of being another wolf in sheep's clothing with his shared love of mischiefmaking.

"Robin!" the young Frollo greeted with hearty pat on the back.

Handing one bottle to Jehan, who readily took a thirsty swig, Robin said, "Come along, my friend. I've met a couple of lovely girls from out of town and they would love to meet the famous Jehan Frollo du Moulin!"

Before he could impulsively head off to make acquaintances with said women, Jehan remembered the promise he made to Claude. Claude's trust in him was already hanging by a thread; if he allowed this slip-up, then he would never trust Jehan with anything and probably cut his allowance.

His usually happy façade was replaced with a crest-fallen expression of deep thought.

"You'll have to excuse me," Jehan apologized. "But tonight my business lies with Henry Cezanne. Have you seen him by any chance?"

His friend looked disappointed. "Business?" he questioned. "What do you mean by business?" For a moment, Robin pondered Jehan's statement before looking at him skeptically and asking, "This wouldn't have anything to do with the Minister, would it?"

Chugging down some more wine, Jehan then vaguely answered, "Just some things that need to be discussed, Robin. You'll have to court your lady friends without me tonight."

"If you say so. Cezanne's over there," he said pointing towards a dice table to where a group of rough-looking men gathered. Robin carefully looked over his shoulder and examined the group of rogues, most of them looked overly-brutish. "Don't get yourself killed."

"You sound like my brother." Jehan rolled his eyes, pushing Robin aside and making his way towards the group. Each of the men downed their drinks in a matter of seconds and kept a reluctant looking woman by their side.

Jehan kept his eyes on the man in the center: an imposing, Viking-like physique; long, unkempt brown hair; a rough, heavily-scarred face; a heavy fur coat; and a poniard secured at his side.

Taking a breath, he jumped headfirst. "Monsieur Cezanne! It's been a while!" he greeted.

Gulping his drink heavily and slamming his goblet down with a thud, the man studied Jehan.

"Yes…Jean, was it?" his voice raspy and indicated a hidden danger.

"Jehan, sir. I was wondering if you'd be up for a game. First one to a hundred wins?"

The posse surrounding him laughed a bit at the proposal. Cezanne smirked. "Well, who am I to deny a game? Loser buys the next round!"

X

"Are you positive that your brother can handle this, Minister?" Captain Gerard asked.

"Honestly…not entirely," Frollo answered as he inspected an arrow before loading it into a crossbow. "Which is why if Cezanne exits the tavern—with or without Jehan—I still want him arrested. However, our chances of doing so are much greater should Jehan succeed in drawing him out. It is all a matter of waiting, Captain."

"Do have faith in your brother, sir?"

Frollo scowled at him. "He's an idiot but he has some use, I suppose. Sadly, this is a last resort."

The judge prayed that Jehan hadn't found his way into trouble so soon.

X

"100!" Jehan proudly declared as the dice landed on the winning number ten to win the game. "Good game, old man!" he said, Cezanne grimacing at such a loss. Slowly reaching for his weapon, he would have gladly slit the boy's throat if it weren't for Jehan's next words.

"To show you that I am a good sport, drinks are on me!" the boy announced, receiving approving applause and cheers.

Robin approached his friend. "I take it that you've taken care of business? How much did your brother give you for tonight, Jehan?"

"Enough!" the blond boy laughed. "Just have another drink, Poussepain!"

Beer and wine flowed like an endless river as Jehan and his friends drank to Kingdom Come for hours on end. Laughter erupted from vulgar jokes and tales and fights broke out, but the good times never ceased. The teen reveled in the attention and admiration from his friends (including Cezanne) while he recounted his own exploits that were the cause of misery to his long-suffering brother.

"I wish you all could have seen my brother's face; I swear to God when he's angered, he could scare the horns off of the Devil himself!" Jehan was red as he howled in laughter and continued to drink like a fish.

Cezanne himself had lost most of his own wits to the power of alcohol and roared mercilessly from the teen's story. "Jean! No…Jehan! You truly are brave man! I can't imagine anyone who could push the Minister of Justice so far and still live to tell the tale!"

"My brother is a chump! He may parade his title and power like Nero, but believe me: he is weak-willed and bends to my wishes at the snap of my fingers! I demand money and he hands it over without a second thought."

Cezanne blinked at the boy's statement. "But how? Everyone knows that the Minister is cruel, ruthless man."

Jehan shrugged and produced an intoxicated smile. "My brother says that I was hexed by a witch as an infant, so whenever I found myself in trouble…'It's not my fault, Claude! I was cursed by the she-demon!' But that stopped working years ago. And he still gives me whatever I want!" That said the boy reached over the table for another drink.

Cezanne's scarred face softened as he frowned a bit. "A funny thing, your relationship with your brother; it's much different than that of your father!"

"My father?" Jehan repeated, his head swimming in alcohol. "My father's been dead for seventeen years!"

"I know! I remember growing up and seeing him—the other Minister—and how he used to punish your brother out in public."

Jehan knitted his brows together, trying to focus on Cezanne's tale. "Really?"

Cezanne nodded. "And here you boast about your brother's leniency, but perhaps you ought to give him more credit. He could have been a lot harder on you as a lad."

Suddenly Jehan felt sick, whether it was from the copious amount of wine he had consumed since entering the tavern, or perhaps something else. Automatically he reached for his glass and shook off the feeling.

"Such wise words from such a rugged man!" he suddenly said. "But still, my brother has and always will bea stick in the mud! So I say, we should continue this celebration! Come, Monsieur Cezanne! We shall go in search of the finest women in Paris!"

"A wild man!" Cezanne cried enthusiastically. "If you insist! Let's be on our way!"

X

"Sir, if I may, how much longer are we to wait here?" Captain Gerard asked, stifling a yawn.

"An excellent question, Captain, one to which I unfortunately do not have the answer," Frollo replied as he leaned against the wall in the alley in which he waited, crossbow in hand. Jehan had gone into that tavern hours ago with a simple task and had yet to return.

Perhaps I overestimated the poor boy's abilities, he pondered, his lean frame beginning to shiver from the biting cold.

"Do you think he's alright?" Gerard asked.

Frollo's lips turned into a frown at the question. Quickly disguising his worry, he answered, "If I know my brother, he is like a cockroach: he can survive anything. He may not possess the same sagacity that I held at his age, but somehow he always makes it out alive."

Suddenly the two men heard the sound of drunken laughter emerging from the tavern. They glanced to check if it was from some lost peasants, but were shocked to see Jehan Frollo stumbling about with Henry Cezanne in tow. Swiftly the judge and Captain hid themselves, prepared to spring their trap.

"Now, sir?" Gerard whispered, hand on the hilt of his sword at the ready.

"Wait until they're further out in the open," Frollo replied as he fixed his gaze on the two intoxicated buffoons staggering about.

"Come, Henry! I know where the prettiest girls are to be found at this hour!" he heard his little brother slur.

"Your treat, Monsieur du Moulin!" Cezanne responded.

Jehan patted the coin purse at his side, expecting to hear the jingle of coin and hearing nothing.

"Forgive me, Henry, but I seem to be out of money," he wearily said. "But don't worry! I'll just ask my brother for more! In fact, he should be meeting me here any moment!"

Cezanne turned around and eyed Jehan in disbelief. "What? Your brother is coming here?!"

Jehan nodded. "Yes. He told me to meet him in front of the tavern, and he and his friends would come."

Within earshot, Frollo could hear the idiotic words tumble from his brother's drunken wine-stained lips and could only slide his hand over his face in exasperation.

Jehan continued, "Who knows? Maybe he's already here waiting for us." The boy searched around the dark area, looking for the Minister. "Claude! Claude, are you here, brother?!"

Out of his element, Jehan did not register the expression of livid fury on Cezanne's face as he suddenly seized the boy and instantly raised the poniard to Jehan's throat.

"Frollo!" he bellowed, red eyes scanning his surroundings. "Where are you?! Show yourself before I gouge your brother's eyes out!"

Frollo's eyes narrowed in alarm at Cezanne as he quickly called his men out from their hiding places and raised their weapons at the man who still held a struggling Jehan in his grip.

"Claude! Help me!" Jehan cried as the blade pressed further into his throat.