"Some bloody children's novel." His brow wrinkled. "I had warhorses with riders spilling their guts out on them. Truly monsters of tall tales."

"They weren't fazed, any of them. They were prepared. Which makes me wonder what the hell is going on here."

"Something worse than we ever imagined."

Ven kept his head down and his ears open over the next few nights. Initially, he'd hoped to derive more information on what had happened that night in the woods, but a changing of the guard had occurred shortly after he and Gio returned to their rooms. Gone were the Lumanlisc women, replaced by grim-faced and unfamiliar soldiers who were visibly armed and far more reticent. Ven had witnessed some of the prisoners attempt to interact with them, only to be brushed off with visible hostility. He'd heard a few muttering about how reconciliation had been a lie, how they'd been lured into tranquility and were now facing the end of a muzzle. That was stupid. They'd been facing the end of the muzzle the entire time. As much as he found the heretics here deplorable, betrayal and subterfuge was in their nature. If anyone had let their guard down, they only had themselves to blame.

The prisoners were still allowed out onto the grounds, but their area of free movement had been drastically reduced. It was really just a small circle of grass that they could traipse around or sit upon. The Hold was closed, as were the fields and the greenhouse and the surrounding facilities. At least no one had taken the bathrooms away, he thought grimly. Most people spent their time locked up in their rooms.

He and Giovanni had been perched inside their bunk, reviewing what little novel information they'd collected in the last few days, when a shuffling sound started outside. Something scraped along the bottom of the door, clearly trying to get in.

Giovanni held up a hand, cocking his head intently to listen. What manner of knocking was that? It sounded more animal than anything.

There was a thump and then a snuffle outside. "Friend of yours?" Venenzio asked.

The thought dawned on him. "It's that damned rabbit, I bet. Kitchen girl's pet."

"Lruia Lumanlisc." Venenzio recalled, reaching for the knob. "What's it doing here?"

"I don't know, but be careful." He lifted a finger to his lips. "I don't trust it."

Venenzio raised an eyebrow - what did he think that the rabbit would do? It was a rabbit. It could barely squeak, much less talk. He was so ready to leave this bloody country. Sangrian air would do good for Giovanni's brain. "Right."

He opened the door to reveal a small, fat, brown rabbit. It had antlers. It stood on its hind legs to look up at him, snorted, and then hopped inside. Tied around its back, under a ribbon, was a rolled scroll.