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And at last:



The great family saga begins ...

The Earl Maximillius von Nuts IV is dead. Leaving behind no children, his nephew, Wolfgang von Nuts has just claimed the Earlship. All the nobles and merchants of the land were invited to a midnight banquet on Shrewberry Lane, the ancestral home of the von Nuts.


It was turning out to be a wondrous night. In the midst of all the tribal bark-scraping beats that typified the primordial music of the Grey Clan, from which the Great Family von Nuts descended, the newly minted Earl, Wolfgang von Nuts, Esq., walked with his cleanly shaven chin high. Oh yes, he certainly mourned his uncle, but old Maximillius had served a long, illustrious life of 15 years in the King's service, ancient by squirrel standards.

As he padded gingerly amongst the guests, high up in the richly furnished tree of his birth, he nodded to various notables on occasion, who in turn, raised their chardonnay glasses. But she wasn't there. He began to wonder if she received the invitation in time.

Just then, there was a ruckus by the tree gate, which opened up to a ladder that extended to the ground below. Not that noblesquirrels would need it, already fine climbers by species, made even finer by good genetic stock. Platypi were a different matter.

After losing his footing twice, nearly plummeting down the precipitous drop to an untimely death, Plady McBill finally raised one paw and dropped into within the opening of the tree, panting and huffing as the guards helped pull him in. While he caught his breath, Wolfgang padded over, smiling broadly.

"Ah, Plady my good man, so glad you could make it."

The platypus breathed in deeply, "Oh. Well, I couldn't miss this, now could I?" He released slowly, until his heart rate was normal once more. "Whew. Why, my, my, young Wolfgang, now an Earl. Ha! Imagine that." Plady crawled over to the nearest table where a serving squirrel (dressed quite humorously in a white chef hat and apron) handed him a glass. Tapping his beak against the crystal, the orchestra and guests hushed.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I believe a toast is in order here. I have known the von Nuts Family for longer than I quite care to remember, and through thick and thin, Wolfgang has only had one objective on his mind, and that was to become an Earl!"

Laughter went throughout the crowd, and a few appreciative nods.

"And now, look at him, so dashing in his robes of royal blue. Wolfgang, alas, my Earl, whatever will you do now that your dreams are accomplished? Here's to Wolfgang, 532nd generation noblesquirrel, and may he serve the woods of Austro-Hungary well with the same wisdom that marked his uncle and those before him."

"Here, here!"

The Earl lowered his head slightly in embarrassment, but smiled graciously as the applause rang out and paws rapped the tables. This was it. This was all he ever wanted. Except ...

The lights barely dimmed, the cue for an approaching noble entourage. The orchestra began again, this time with blaring trumpets and lyrical flutes. The watchsquirrel yelled out from his post above (high above at the summit of the tree), "Hark! Here approaches the Lady Priscilla L'Ecrous, scion of the L'Ecrous of Burgundy!"

Wolfgang's small heart flittered excitedly as the first of Priscilla's servingladysquirrels reached the top of the ladder, waiting patiently for their Lady's arrival. And then, it came like a vision to the young Earl -- he became abruptly lightheaded as the Lady L'Ecrous delicately reached one perfectly toned paw over the threshold. She lifted her body up, and Wolfgang stood, admiring. She didn't change much from when they were children. Except a bit more beautiful.

The Earl sauntered over, clasping his cousin's hand before raising it to his squirrelly lips. "Mademoiselle, I'm so glad you could make it. You must be exhausted from the traveling."

The Lady inclined her head ever so slightly, were eyelids fluttering prettily: "It was all right. But, pardon moi for my ... how you say? Lateness? I just had to see my cousin for this."

They both smiled at each other broadly, before the watchsquirrel's voice rang out once more: "But hark, and see here! A messenger approaches!"

Moments later, one of Wolfgang's squirrels handed him a chilled bottle of wine along with a paper note. The Earl grinned as he read it. "Listen here!" The room went silent. "Our dear cousin, the Guinea du Loc, has sent us a love letter!"

After the laughter and chitters died down, Wolfgang began in an exaggerated basso voice that mocked the Baron Giuseppe Guinea du Loc, "Dear cousin. Unfortunately, due to some prior inescapable engagements, I could not attend your party, but, please accept this fine bottle of wine, of the best, and most profound vintage, fetched from my very own cellar. May your Earlship be long and illustrious! Giuseppe."

"Ha! And I suppose the wine is probably poisoned too!" someone yelled out from the back.

Wolfgang chuckled. "Oh, much as I would like to agree, I doubt that even our dear Giuseppe would be so dense as to do something that so blatantly lacks finesse." As he said this, he casually handed the bottle back, which was immediately given to Sammy Squirrel, a food-taster in the Family's employ. Sammy Squirrel came from a peasant family so common, that the surname was his own species. Wolfgang often thought to himself in quiet, depressed moments that this was obviously to remind themselves of what they were, since peasants were clearly too stupid to remember otherwise. This often made the Earl feel better about himself.

Suddenly, Sammy dropped the bottle, dashing its fluid, red contents about the wooden floor, and shortly thereafter, his body followed in a loud whump. The party went dead silent, as everyone watched Sammy's right foot twitch for a final time.

It was the Earl's brother, the Count Johann Ludwig von Nuts, who spoke first. "Well then. That's ... unfortunate."

(continued ...)

Wolfgang seethed. They killed Sammy. Not that he really cared for peasants. But Sammy was his peasant. They killed his peasant!

The captain of the guard, noticing a quick flicker of paw movements from Mr. Hansel Und Klein Schmitten Greytail, the Earl's right-hand squirrel, said quite loudly in his impressively pitched voice, "Ladies and gentlemen. I am afraid that this party will have to come to a premature end. Please allow the servers to show you to your quarters."

As the noblesquirrels and merchants filed out of the main hall, Priscilla took one worried glance at Wolfgang, but when he didn't return it, she quickly went along her way.

When the room was cleared of all except the two von Nuts brothers, Mr. Greytail, Plady McBill (whose advice was greatly valued by Wolfgang), and a handful of guards, Wolfgang exploded into a violent rant. "Those dratted pigs! They've ruined my party! You'd think that that fat, furry pig would at least have the decency to not crash my dinner, considering that I did give him an invite! That pig! That dratted, damn-"

Greytail cleared his throat lightly. His shrewd eyes centered directly on Wolfgang's. "Milord, if I may say, I believe we have more serious matters to consider. They did try to poison you."

Silence permeated between the tight huddle of animals.

Greytail continued, "Of course, my squirrels are now scouting out the surrounding areas of Shrewberry Lane. The messenger will be apprehended. He will not get far."

A slow grin spread across Count Johann Ludwig von Nuts' grey face. He always did it in such an odd way that unsettled Wolfgang deeply.

"Yes, Johann?"

The Count's whiskers twitched ever so slightly. "Ludwig, please."

"Ha! Fancy. I expected more than second-child attention-hungry cliches from you, Johann."

The Count ignored this: "Do you really think that getting this messenger will do you any good? I am quite sure that knowing Giuseppe and his ilk, the poor sap was completely oblivious as to the contents of his package. No, if anything, you have to strike the source."

At this, Plady nodded gravely. "Yes, Wolfgang, unfortunately you must. It would not do well for the Family von Nuts to show a sign of weakness" -- tapping his bill twice against the floor (a strange "tic" that Wolfgang never quite figured out) -- "and not retaliating could be construed as weakness in the King's eyes. Harming the messenger will do nothing."

Johann Ludwig added unnecessarily, "Precisely. You wouldn't make us look weak now, would you, Wolfgang?"

The Earl's brow furrowed. "Greytail."

The squirrel snapped to attention, "Yes, Milord."

"I want you to send Kurio, first thing in the morning. The Redshanks boy. Get him as close to the Guinea du Loc court as possible. Find out what the Baron knows. Something is afoot, I can smell it."

Plady raised his snout and sniffed the air for emphasis.

The Earl continued: "And contact 'Twenty Knives' Johnson. If the Baron wants to play dirty ..."

Greytail smirked. "It will be as you say, Milord."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I wish to retire for the night."

After bowing deeply to each one in turn, Wolfgang left their company. Johann Ludwig barely stifled his chuckle. "Right. 'Retire.' Is that what they call it now?"

But Greytail was flushing red underneath his fur, thinking of his Lord with that French woman. "Secubi," he muttered, before pivoting on his foot and going off to find Kurio.