"Not right from the beginning, sire?" cried Boxer, mock exasperated

"Yes, the beginning, where all great things start..."

Boxer sighed and obeyed. This was the third time the Emperor had cajoled him to tell the tale. But it was a story he'd never really tire in telling.

"I first realised the captive breds had turned on the haven," he began. "When I ran in to fight the enemy, only to find it fighting itself..."

Of course, Boxer had done no such thing, and was actually as far from the fighting as could be, but he'd told Morellius the exact same version of the story three times now, so it was close to becoming established fact.

The Emperor himself had retreated below ground as soon as he discovered his lands had been invaded - which was about fifteen minutes after it had actually happened. There he stayed, until a joyous Boxer came skipping down into the burrow with equally joyous news, and then he went back up again.

Emperor Morellius was now sitting in his throne beneath the trees, feeling mighty comfortable for the first time in a long time, with Boxer before him, and Quentin and Charles nursing their injuries on either side.

Boxer repeated the tale, subject to frequent interruption.

"Oh, marvellous, marvellous, Boxer!" Morellius whinnied at one point, in as shrill a voice as to match Boxer's own. "But you needn't be modest, my dear boy. It was you who drove the rebels back over the hill, wasn't it?"

Boxer would have liked to say yes, it was, but with Quentin and Charles nearby, he had to tell the truth instead. Inserting himself in places where he hadn't been was one thing. Changing the inescapable facts was another.

"Alas, no," he said. "That responsibility must be claimed by their erstwhile allies, the captive breds. None were so instrumental as they."

The Emperor's mouth frothed and bubbled as he salivated with delight. "Oh, Boxer, this is truly a wonderful day!" he kept saying. "Just one moon ago we were on a precipice, facing our own destruction, but today..."

Eventually he let Boxer continue with his story.

"The captive breds seemed to switch sides just like that. One moment it was us versus them. The next, it was us versus them... versus them. It got pretty confusing for a while. After all, if we attacked one of the captive breds who was busy fighting one of the haven's men... well, that was leaving the haven trooper free to attack us, so why not let the captive breds fight our fights for us?"

"Why, indeed?" said Morellius lovingly.

"The haven scoundrels didn't seem to realise they weren't fighting on the same side as the captive breds anymore," Boxer continued. "Quite a few were pounded to death because they refused to defend themselves against their former allies. Ironic, really. But then enough of the haven's men realised what had happened and a cry went up. Retreat! It was a sound as sweet as birdsong."

Emperor Morellius sighed wistfully.

"I'm sorry you missed it, Your Majesty," Boxer said as an aside. "But after that, the haven dispersed and fled the field of battle. There was little we could do but to hasten their flight. The captive breds chased them to the top of the hill. And that's where they remain this evening. The captive breds, I mean. I don't know in what state the enemy lies tonight. Quaking with fear and lamenting the day they ever tried to conquer the lands of Emperor Morellius LXXVI, I imagine!"

The Emperor chortled, squeezing his piggy eyes shut. "Oh, dear Boxer, I take back everything I said about you yesterday. I do so apologise!"

"No apologies," Boxer refused, holding up a paw. "Indeed, I must thank you most gregariously for your continued faith in me, my lord..."

"Alas, you regard me too well, Boxer." Morellius sighed. "I did too lose that faith faced with the prospect of defeat. But now you have proven why I need you. Not only have you secured us this victory, and shown me that I can be wrong, but you have brought our old friends, the captive breds back to us!"

At that, Quentin and Charles suddenly regained interest in this sycophantic mutual masturbation of the verbal variety and looked up.

Boxer squirmed. "Yes," he said slowly. "Your Highness does understand that the captive breds aren't technically back with us, doesn't he?"

"Oh, yes," the Emperor said, with a dismissive flap of his paw. "But it's only a matter of time, isn't it? They've realised they were wrong and we were right. We both want the same things now. I'm sure you can reunite us..."

"Sir, I'm not sure Your Majesty is prepared to grant them the one thing that drove them away from our little community in the first place."

Morellius blew a raspberry. "Come now, Boxer, I almost seem to have more faith in you than you do yourself. Reunification isn't about acquiescing to their desires; it's about agreeing to forget that they ever turned against us, and not killing them for it. What they want is irrelevant. They are captive breds."

"Yes, Your Majesty, of course, but-" Boxer began.

"No buts. I want them back where they belong by noon tomorrow. Go to them, and remind them that just as we now outnumber the haven, without their little rebel alliance, we now outnumber them, too. Don't let them refuse."

"Yes, sir," Boxer said through clenched teeth.

They're going to tear me limb from limb, he thought.

As night fell, the captive breds remained on the hilltop. Despite their losses in battle, they still numbered in the hundreds. They gathered on the gentler flank of the hillside, so that the imposing sight of them amassed there would deter Emperor Morellius from launching an attack either on them or the haven.

After due procrastination, Adolf began sermonising.

"In his dying, Jesus has shown us the way," he told them. "The path before us now is clearer than ever. By killing our messiah, the natural borns of the haven have done two things. Firstly, they have opened our eyes as to who are the true enemies of Christianity. It's everybody, everybody who is not like us. We could trust the haven no more than we could trust Emperor Morellius. Our alliance was born of temptation. Satan is not stupid. He knew we would be tempted by the promise of freedom. We have been manipulated into doing the will of the Dark One. We have seen the face of Satan today, and it belongs to a rabbit named Jack!"

A massive cheer of rage and vengefulness went up.

"Secondly," Adolf said, though he had to repeat it several times before the crowd was quiet enough to hear him. "And most importantly, the haven have made us free men. The doubtful amongst you come before me, afraid, and beg at my knees to save you. You say we are adrift in the wilderness, homeless, baseless, sandwiched between two enemies. I say that those who beg at my knees will one day be begging at the knees of Satan himself!" He snorted angrily.

The crowd was whipped into fervour.

"The doubters amongst you need to break free of the slave mentality," Adolf continued, spittle flying from his mouth. "You seem to believe that those who do not have a home are adrift. But we have never had a home! We have only ever had a prison, be it in the cages of men, or the warrens of Morellius. Yet now we have no prison but that which we make for ourselves, in our minds. In giving his life, Jesus has shown us the errors of looking to the haven for freedom. Over the hill lies just another prison for us. But up here, alone, adrift, homeless, baseless, with enemies on all sides, we are free to decide our own destiny for the first time!"

Rabbits fainted; such was the power of this orator. Veteran fighters stood on their hind legs and banged their chests with little fists. Captive bred females screamed in adoration and waved their paws for his attention. Nobody had elected Adolf to be Christ's successor, but nobody stood to challenge him either.

"What are we going to do?" the cry went up.

Adolf let the crowd simmer for a bit, then he turned his nose up, glared over them, and pouted. "Attack the greater enemy, but the weaker foe," he declared, then let them mutter about it for a moment. "The haven!"

Peter Rabbit heard the subsequent cheer. Those milling around him deep within the haven's interior also stopped and looked up at the roof of the cavern. It didn't seem like there was a hundred feet of earth between them and the enemy. Still, people had things to do. They didn't stop for long.

The mood in the haven was predictably solemn. Nobody was really speaking to anybody else. As a result, even the quietest whispers seemed loud. The mutterers spoke of food, the state of the warren, the weather. No-one talked about what had happened, or more pressingly, what was going to happen. Everyone knew that they were hiding down here. Everybody knew what was coming.

Peter stood in the heart of the haven, orchestrating its defence. He'd sent Mark, Tom and Benjamin off to take a tally of survivors. Mont'mar and Ball'rdo had gone too. Soon they would return, and Peter was dreading it. He put on an optimistic front and tried to be proactive in giving out orders, but he was sending people on pointless errands just to give them something to do, just to give them a sense that there was still something worth fighting for, that all was not lost.

He felt bitter inside, like he could hurt someone, anyone, it didn't have to be an enemy. Just someone who could personify his rage, and he could vanquish with a slit of the throat. He didn't understand what had happened.

Just then, Mark returned, looking crestfallen.

"How many?" Peter asked quietly.

Mark chewed his tongue. "Sixty..."

In quick succession, Tom, Benjamin and the hares also appeared. Mont'mar and Ball'rdo reported another seventy or eighty each in the tunnels above them. Tom and Benjamin reported between one hundred and one-hundred-and-fifty hiding deeper within the haven, but then there was some confusion over whether Benjamin had accidentally double-counted Tom's allotted tunnels too.

"I make that to be about four hundred," said Peter.

"Being generous, yes," Mark commented.

Peter glared at him. "And how many captive breds do we think there are?"

"Too many..." Tom sighed.

"They took heavy losses," Mont'mar pointed out.

"But will it be an equal fight?" Peter demanded.

Mark snorted. "They're captive breds. There's no such thing."

"Hmm," went Peter. Mark was right.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Mont'mar.

Peter turned to her. "All right. I want to cave in some of the tunnels. How are your hares shaping up? Do you think you can handle it?"

"There's not many of us left," Mont'mar admitted, the pain clear to see. "But I can manage that. Which tunnels? The bottom two?"

Peter hesitated. "No," he said. "The three at the top. I want to leave the bottom two open, and defend them, lightly if needs be. We're going to be spreading our forces pretty thinly as it is, but if the captive breds come alone, I think we can hold them off. We just have to bear in mind that they know this place as well as we do, and they know exactly what tactics we'll be using, too..."

"And what if they don't come alone?" Mark said.

Peter glared at him again. "Then we'll definitely be needing those two bottom tunnels open. Abandon the haven, take the battle to the trees."

Mark snorted. "Oh, we're fucked..."

Mopsy and Jack finally limped into the haven after dark. With Jack's broken ligament, they hadn't been able to keep up with the retreating army. They had had to head into the trees and take the long route round. Jack entered the haven via the lower tunnels leaning on Mopsy for support. They met rabbits just inside the tunnel, ready to defend the warren. None of them looked particularly hopeful.

"This is all my fault," Jack hissed in Mopsy's ear.

Mopsy refused to talk to him until she'd found an empty burrow where he could rest. Then she stood over him, looking grave.

"I've destroyed any hope this rebellion ever had," Jack said, his eyes flitting past her as if he was only just grasping the gravity of his actions. "I've condemned every rabbit in this warren to an undeserved death."

"That's bullshit, Jack" Mopsy said wearily.

"Don't you understand what's going to happen?" he cried. "The combined forces of Emperor Morellius and the captive breds are going to descend upon this haven without mercy or hesitation and slay every man, woman and child they find hiding down here. And all because I killed Jesus. If I hadn't, we would still have an alliance with the captive breds. Oh, Mopsy, we were so close! We were on Morellius' lands! We would have defeated him by now if it weren't for me!"

Mopsy sighed. "Jack, it was never going to happen. Jesus was going to switch sides anyway. If you hadn't killed him, all that would have happened is that he'd be leading the fight against us rather than Adolf, that's all..."

Jack grumbled to himself. "Nobody will see it that way."

"Everybody will see it that way. Because I will tell them. You were in an impossible situation, Jack. But hey, look at it this way, at least now that you've killed that bastard there's one less captive bred for us to fight..."

"You're not helping," Jack told her.

"Yes, I am," she replied.

"But it's not supposed to be this way," he said. "Can't you see? We're not supposed to be fighting the captive breds! When I confronted Jesus, he admitted he would only be able to rise up after the haven and Morellius had wiped each other out. Except now it's going to be the haven and the captive breds-"

"And Morellius will outlive us all..."

Jack nodded, tears in his eyes.

"I don't know what I can say, Jack." Mopsy sighed. "I guess we're all in that impossible situation with you. Perhaps there never was much hope, just plenty of faith. And wouldn't it have been worse not to have tried at all?"

"No. We've achieved nothing," Jack muttered.

"Perhaps," Mopsy admitted. "We can't foresee the future. We've planted the idea now that Morellius isn't the immortal he claims to be. Perhaps one day someone else will have more success than we did. And that makes it worth it..."

Jack rested his chin on the floor.

"And hey, we're not finished yet, anyway!" Mopsy said cheerfully.

"No?" Jack grumbled.

"No!" Mopsy said firmly. "But if you just want to lie in here and wait until they come for you, that's fine. I plan to leave this world with Morellius' name on my lips. Even if I just kill one enemy, that's one less for those that survive me to deal with. Now, where's my old friend Jack who would agree with me?"

Jack looked up at her. "I-" he began.

But just then, a rabbit bounded through the tunnel outside. He spotted them in the burrow, and came rushing back to tell them: "It's started!"

"What?!" Mopsy cried, her reserve failing.

"The captive breds are coming over the hill!" Then the rabbit disappeared back into the tunnel. They heard him running away.

"I should find my father," said Mopsy.

"I love you," Jack said quickly.

"I know. But I'll be back. Wait here."

And then she was gone...

"I love you," Jack whispered after her.

He got to his feet, staggering and almost falling, wincing at the pain in his hind leg. He managed to reach the tunnel. Rabbits were rushing past, abandoning their post to reinforce defences elsewhere. He waited until they were all gone, then he limped out of the haven and into the chilly night air.

Captive breds were pouring over the hilltop.

Mopsy's words were still ringing in Jack's mind. "Even if I just kill one enemy, that's one less for those that survive me to deal with," she'd said. "Now, where's my old friend Jack who would agree with me?"

"He's right here," Jack told himself.

Then he headed down the hill and into the trees.

NOTES:
A chapter largely used to break up the constant action of the last 10,000 odd words, change the direction of the story, and set up the situation for the final sequence of events. A talky chapter, not in all places turning out exactly as I'd hoped, with several instances (mainly of the dramatic variety) which I should have been able to milk further. Some of the ideas forming about Christianity, which originally just came out of nowhere, are something I'm now going to have to leave largely unexplored. The same goes for the previously-featured psychic abilities of the hares. This splurge-based draft has been about getting the story down as it came to me, but there's plenty of scope for a more focused second draft...