Deirdre—The Rabbit Wall

	There was a new stone wall around Oseille.  It was too thin, and it wouldn't slow a determined attack for long.  But Deirdre was impressed.  Rabbits weren't supposed to fight.  Sabia and Connor both expected them to give in at the first sight of a sword.
	Beside her, Alana frowned and scratched at her neck.  The girl had been on the campaign for a month, and the heavy leather cuirass she insisted on wearing was rubbing her fur thin.
	“We could have built a much better wall for them, if they had asked us,” said Alana.
	“Yes.  I think that's the problem,” said Deirdre.
	“But we’re here to protect them.  They know that.”
	“Do you really think so?”
	Deirdre stood up in her stirrups and looked down at the city.  Even with the wall, it was still the most tranquil place she had ever seen.  There were no sentries, and no guards at the gates.  There were flowers planted everywhere, and children ran unminded in the streets.
	“Worried about your daughter?” said Alana.
	“She can take care of herself.  I taught her that, if I taught her anything,” said Deirdre.
	“I saw her when I was in the city.  Did I tell you?  She was surrounded by so many rabbits she might as well have had her ears lengthened.”
	“She always did have strange taste in friends.  But... how did you know who she was?  I never told Sabia anything about her.”
	Alana looked down at her hands, as if she was expecting to see the right answer on the back of her horse's neck, and her whiskers drooped a little.
	“We've always had... people inside Connor's city, to let us know what was going on,” she said.
	Deirdre felt a rush of anger.  She'd known that there were spies around.  It was why she had insisted that Connor put spies into Blackpool, as a sort of retaliation.  But she had kind of assumed that children were off limits.
	“Did she say anything to you?” said Deirdre.
	“She threatened me,” said Alana, and she smiled a little “I think it's a good thing the rabbits were there, or I might have been in trouble.”
	“She has her mother's temper,” said Deirdre.
	“She'll need it, if she wants to survive.  Somebody has to protect the bunnies,” said Alana.
	All of the little houses were just as neat as Deirdre remembered them and she found herself counting back, looking for the one that might have been hers.  She wondered if Ciara had kept it, and whether she had ever been happy there.
	“What do we do when they fight back?” said Deirdre.
	“We subdue them, peacefully.  If we can keep from laughing long enough to do it,” said Alana.
	“You'd better drop that attitude, right now.  They built the wall, and they aren't going to stop there.”
	“But that's insane. We could take that city apart with just the fighters we have with us.”
	“That doesn't matter.  If it did, they would have picked a side a long time ago,” said Deirdre.
	“Their pride is going get them killed,” said Alana.
	Deirdre settled back in her saddle, and rubbed her eyes, to clear them of visions she couldn't afford to let herself have.  If she wanted Ciara to be able to live in peace, she had to keep fighting.
	“We've been out in the open too long.  We need to keep moving before we're spotted,” she said.
	But Alana wasn't looking at her anymore.  The girl had turned her horse back up the hill, and her ears were pricked forward, listening.  Her whiskers were bristled, and her claws had cut deeply into the leather of her saddle.
	“We're too late,” said Alana.
	War trumpets blared away to the east, still distant but getting closer.  Some of Deirdre's own fighters blew an answering dischord, which throbbed painfully in her ears, and made her gelding dance under her.  Their enemy wasn't in sight yet, but she could already feel the ground trembling from the galloping of the horses.  Alana shifted uneasily, ears flattened in fear, and she drew her sword.  But Deirdre was relieved relief.  As bad as fighting was, it was something she understood.