Alana—White Flag

	The old castle was riddled with forgotten tunnels and hidden passages that some of Alana’s more paranoid ancestors had built.  She had discovered most of them over the course of a dull and lonely childhood and she still used some of them from time to time.  They were useful when she wanted to have some time to herself or to duck her mother.  She doubted that Sabia knew about more than a quarter of them.  Her mother was afraid of the dark and rarely had time to go exploring.
	Nevertheless, just to be safe, Alana chose a roundabout route that avoided the inhabited parts of the castle entirely.  By the time they got to a low wooden door set in one of the castle’s outside walls even she was sick of the damp tunnels.  She felt like her fur would never dry out.  Ciara and her rabbits had kept to the middle of every tunnel and they had avoided touching the walls as much as they could.  Only Deirdre seemed to be comfortable with their surroundings, but she made no attempt to hide her impatience.  Every time they came to another intersection, or slowed down for any reason, Deirdre muttered curses under her breath.
	The door had been locked once, but all of the metal on it had corroded into uselessness and the wood was spongy and unpleasant to touch.  Alana gave it a ginger push with her fingers and wiped her hands on her pants to get the slime off.
	Her friends clustered around the door, to prod at it themselves.  Deirdre, of course, pushed to the front, as if she had any more of an idea of how to open it than anyone else.  She scowled and scraped at the lock with a claw.  The noise set Alana’s teeth on edge, but it also caused a large chunk of corroded metal to break off.  Deirdre smirked, and scratched at it again.
	“Here we are in the second richest city in the world, and the way they act you’d never believe it.  If I had the money you people spend on swords I could build a castle of my own,” said Deirdre.
	She took a drink from a fresh jug of wine and hammered on the lock with the bottom of the bottle.
	“After all, it was only foxes who were hurt in the last war, right?” said Alana.
	“You won, didn't you?” said Deirdre.
	“I'm not certain anybody did.  I was certain we'd be down to throwing rocks at each other before you gave up,” said Alana.
	Deirdre hit the lock a third time and she laughed when it broke.  She thrust the bottle into Fiachra's arms, put both hands on the door and pushed.  She even got it to open a little way before Alana could shove her out of the way.
	“Let me.  A little caution would be nice, if you please.  Everyone out there is nervous and I don’t want any of you to get shot,” said Alana.
	Deirdre bared her teeth in annoyance, but she let Ciara pull her away to the back of the group.  Alana put her ear close to the door, without touching it, and listened.  Her concentration was broken a few minutes later when Fiachra coughed.
	“Where are we?” he said.
	“Someplace safe, I think.  We’re on the west side of the castle, close to the city wall.  Now hush,” Alana said.
	She held her breath and pushed the door the rest of the way open.
	It opened into another one of the deserted courtyards that surrounded the castle.  This one was a comfortable way away from those parts of the city that anyone still cared about.  There was a thick layer of dust over everything and the air smelled stale.
	“So now what?  This doesn’t look like a way out to me,” said Deirdre.
	She waved the bottle, and clipped Fiachra's ear with it.  He growled at her and Ciara grabbed Deirdre's arm, splashing wine in the dust.
	“You need to back off.  If something happens, she’ll be in more trouble than the rest of us,” said Ciara.
	“Sure, whatever you say.  We're only going to follow her out into the middle of a battlefield, and wait while she waves a white flag.  A move which is almost certainly going to piss off everyone around us.  The ones behind us will be holding longbows,” said Deirdre.
	“You can always go back” said Alana.
	“God, no.  This is going to be too much fun to miss,” said Deirdre.
	“I think we can get out here.  You just have to open your eyes and look,” said Niamh.
	She pointed at the wall and Alana grinned with relief.  She had found the right courtyard after all.  There was a wide crack in the west wall, half hidden behind an orante column.  Alana had found it nine years ago, after the last war had ended, and she had kept it to herself.  The hole it made wasn't obvious, even from the outside, and they would have to knock the whole wall down to fix it.  More importantly, it gave her a way out of the city whenever she liked.
	“Is this going to work?  Deirdre may be a General, but she's still just a mercenary.  Will they accept the surrender from her?” said Niamh.
	“Deirdre won't be the one carrying the flag,” said Alana.
	She squeezed out through the crack first, to make sure that everything was going to be okay.  She emerged in a wilderness of dead grass that came up past her waist and she blinked in the sunlight.  It was brighter here, out of the shelter of the castle, and colder, too.  Alana squatted down to be out of the wind, so it wouldn’t carry her scent to anyone who might be lurking around, and sniffed the air.  She couldn’t smell any foxes on this side of the castle, except for the ones she’d brought with her, but it never hurt to be sure.
	When she opened her eyes again her friends were standing in a circle around her.
	“They’re moving,” said Deirdre.
	Alana couldn’t hear anything except the grass rustling in the wind, but she didn’t doubt Deirdre's word.  The old vixen had been a soldier for much longer than she had and, as annoying as she was, Deirdre was the best fighter Alana had ever met.
	“I thought we'd have more time to get to the front,” said Alana.
	“If Connor remembers half the things I taught him the only soldiers anyone has seen have been the ones he's let you see.  He's closer than you think,” said Deirdre.
	“So what do we do?” said Alana.
	“We keep going.  If you don't get that flag up to the gate now, we'll die,” said Deirdre.
	Deirdre and Ciara pulled Alana to her feet, and they ran.  It was a long way around the castle and she wasn’t as fast as the vixens or as fit as Fiachra, so she and Niamh helped each other along.
	They paused at the far corner of the castle wall, but not for long.  Connor’s army had already left the trees and the foxes were advancing on the city gates.  Alana couldn’t tell how many foxes there were.  Morning sunlight shone off of a field of steel and made the steam of their breaths glow until it filled the whole world.  There was no sound, except for the beat of a single drum beating out a cadence, and the rustle and clink of armor.  Alana faltered, and Deirdre poked her in the ribs.
	“They've seen us.  Put the flag up, now.  When that horn blows only God Herself will be able to stop them,” said Deirdre.
	Alana raised the white flag and waved it frantically to catch the attention of the soldiers.  Without a pole to hoist it on she held it in both hands with her arms raised above her head.  She didn't like how exposed this made her feel and the space between her shoulderblades itched, expecting an arrow.
	They advanced at a walk and Alana put herself slightly in the lead to shield her friends.  Niamh was limping from the run and she looked as frightened as Alana felt.  Deirdre shut her eyes and mumbled prayers to herself.  Ciara took her girlfriend by the arm and led her as they walked.  Only Ciara looked calm, her tail swaying like she was out for a stroll in the fresh air.
	In front of them the Cearnach soldiers continued to pour out of the trees.  The front line was so close Alana could hear the leather of their sandals creak.
	“A little faster, please,” said Deirdre.
	“You’re not helping anything by being a pain in the ass,” said Alana.  But she quickened her pace.
	When they were halfway between the gate and the line, everything happened at once.  From behind the row of foxes, a single trumped sounded.  It was joined by a second, and a third, and made a throbbing dischord that forced Alana to flatten her ears against the pain.  The archers in front of them raised their weapons, and Alana stopped dead.  The flag dropped out of her hands and fluttered to the ground.  Less than an arm's length away, Ciara turned to look at her.  The girl's eyes were bright and Alana watched as her little sister shouted at her.  Ciara's words were drowned by the noise all around them.  Alana wanted to answer, to say that it would be okay, but no words would come.
	Archers nocked their bows and the blare of the trumpets changed, turning shrill and distant.  When the sound died, a rain of arrows began.  They came from behind, from the city walls, and Alana could feel the wind from their feathers turn the air cold.