The Catbyrd Seat (7 page)

Tilde nodded.

“Well, Strip is behind all that,” continued Cociel, happy enough to pin the blame on the new monarch. It wasn’t a lie, after all, it just wasn’t the whole truth. “And Nine Lives was onto him. Nine Lives knew about Strip’s corruption, but he couldn’t say or do anything without making himself look bad, too.”

“It would make him look weak,” Tilde provided, obviously beginning to buy into the suggestion.

“Exactly!” Cociel cried. “Weak. And he didn’t want that. He heard that Strip was planning to rig the elections in Whiska’s favor, and so he put this clause into the will in an attempt to stop him. Now, I know you’re desperate for your own son to win, and to keep his seat as Prime Minister, but would you be willing for him to cheat to do that? To be dishonorable, and also to go against the very specific and set wishes of our beloved late King Nine Lives?”

“Most certainly not!” huffed Tilde angrily.

“Well then, please,” begged Tails. “Please help us to ensure the elections are fair.”

“Do you believe that Strip will still try to disrupt them? Even going against the wishes of his father to do so?” asked Tilde.

“Definitely,” said Cociel. “We heard him say so himself. He told Mr. Byrd that he didn’t care about the will, and that Mr. Byrd would never be Prime Minister in the Reservation as long as he was King.”

Tilde considered this long and carefully, tilting her graceful head to one side. “I shall not vote for Mr. Byrd, but you can count on my help and support to ensure the elections are fair,” she eventually promised, much to the relief of Tails and Cociel. One down, one to go.

***

“I like Mr. Byrd. He’s smart and funny, and very charming and clever. I’ve heard his plans for the Mouse Reservation and I think they might work very well. I see no reason why mice should not be educated, and I see no reason why we cannot all live peacefully side-by-side without one species having dominance over the other.”

Cociel and Tails soon learned that Samantha was going to be a lot easier to convince than Tilde, or indeed the majority of the Reservation. She was already extremely progressive in her thinking, and very pro mouse rights.

“You’re… not worried about losing power?” Tails asked in surprise.

“Not at all. Why would we lose power? If the mice are happy, if all the animals are happy, then there would be no reason for them to revolt and rebel, would there? We’re actually more likely to lose power, eventually, if we don’t keep them happy. You can only keep a nation oppressed for so long. I’ve read my history books.” She gave them a flash of gleaming white fangs.

“So have I,” said Cociel eagerly. “I’m so pleased you understand.”

“And it’s not at all a surprise to me that my brother is planning to rig the elections with Whiska,” she sighed. “It’s what they’ve always done. Them and their bully boy, Grady. Strip is entirely self absorbed and self centered, only ever thinking about what would be best for him, and never of others. He’s also power obsessed. He’s worried that he’ll lose control of things if the mice get some say in the way their own lives are ran, but that’s only because he’s, quite frankly, stupid.” She noted with a wink.

“So… we can count on your support?” asked Cociel.

“Yes. I’ll get myself to the polling station on Polling Day and make sure that nobody is cheating or bullying the mice into voting for Whiska. Then, I’ll cast my vote for Mr. Byrd. Whiska’s been in charge here long enough, and he’s done nothing but make the mice miserable, and him and his friend Grady are a bad influence on my brother. Strip didn’t used to be all that bad. Yes, he’s always been arrogant and selfish, but Whiska’s influence seems to have made that ten times worse.”

“That’s fantastic, Samantha,” Cociel cried, barely able to conceal his excitement. He and Tails grabbed hold of each other’s paws and danced around the Palace hallway together in joy, as Samantha watched on and laughed.

There was a noise from the front entrance of the Palace, like the sound of a cat flap opening and closing, interrupting their merry dance. Samantha’s eyes widened.

“Quick, you two,” she urged. “Go, get out of here, before my brother catches you and finds out we’ve been talking.”

She led them out the back way and they dashed off, racing round to the side to collect the bicycles they had left up against the Palace fence before pedaling quickly all the way back to Campaign HQ to spread the joyous news.

***

For the remainder of that week, up until the day of the election, the five of them worked tirelessly, campaigning both night and day to get the message across. Between them, they visited every single house in the Reservation, and talked to every single mouse. Occasionally, they had doors slammed in their faces by fearful residents who didn’t want to get a visit from Grady. But that didn’t put them off. Instead, they would slide a flier through the door – a special one they’d had made up for those that were frightened of retribution for their actions.

“If you are nervous about voting,” it said, “come talk to us at Campaign HQ. We can offer you safety. Do not allow yourselves to be bullied and controlled. Vote Mr. Byrd.”

They didn’t want to outline their plan publicly on the flier, just in case someone handed it in to the cats, or it got seized by Grady on one of his visits. Instead, they simply invited the mice to come and talk to them in private, and many of them, over the forthcoming evenings, took them up on their offer. Piggles was only too happy to explain to them what the ‘safety’ entailed, and how she would smuggle them out of the Reservation and into the Kingdom, where they could remain hidden in the house of one of the Kingdom residents until the elections were over and Mr. Byrd had won.

“What if Mr. Byrd doesn’t win?” Some of them would inevitably ask.

“Right now, that’s not an option,” Piggles replied. “If all of you vote for Mr. Byrd, then he
will
win, plain and simple. The elections will not be rigged this time.”

Some of them pledged their support. Others were more reluctant. Only two mice took Piggles up on her offer to smuggle them out, and she did so, without getting caught.

Meanwhile, Mr. Byrd continued to canvas door to door, as did Davetil, Cociel, and Tails.

The opposition began stepping up their campaign, too; with Strip and Whiska themselves visiting mice and making empty promises, attempting to ingratiate themselves through smiles and sweet talking, leaving the threatening behavior to Grady and his loyal team of bully cats.

For the entire week, the Reservation was awash with posters, fliers and rosettes, and all anyone could talk about was the election. The place was buzzing with excitement and on the morning of the actual vote itself, lines wound around the block to get into the Polling Station.

Strip, Whiska and Grady were among the first to arrive on the scene, to open up the Station and declare that voting was to begin. They were also expecting to be able to stand there for the entire day and ensure that everyone who turned up knew exactly where to put their ‘X’ – next to Whiska’s name.

They got quite the shock when they saw Tilde and Samantha already waiting there.

“What’s going on?” Whiska demanded. “Mother?”

“I am here to ensure that Strip,” she glared at the young prince. “Does not disrupt the election process.”

“What?” Whiska spat.

“And I’m here to do the same,” said Samantha, glaring at the both of them. Tilde might have been innocent to the crimes of her son, Whiska, but Samantha certainly wasn’t. She knew exactly what he was up to, and she wouldn’t stand for it. “We’ll be here all day, to make sure that everyone who turns up gets a fair vote.”

“That’s ridiculous!” scoffed Strip. “And entirely unnecessary.”

“Yes, I completely agree,” said Whiska. “You might as well just go home and drink your milk. The Polling Station is no place for girls anyway.”

“What?!” Samantha’s fur stood up on end as she leapt forward and went nose to nose with Whiska, squaring up to him. “Say that again…” She stretched out her claws, baring them to him. “I dare you.”

Whiska was in no way a fighting cat. He was all talk and no muscle. He backed down almost immediately, and instead turned to Tilde pleadingly. “Mother, I beg of you…”

“Do not be silly, Whiska,” sighed Tilde. “If the mice love you as much as you say they do, then they’ll all vote for you, of course.”

“But…”

“What’s wrong with having a free election? It is what the King wanted,” she insisted.

“But…”

“There are no but’s. Cast your own votes and then go home.”

Whiska knew he couldn’t say anything to his mother without the risk of ruining his reputation with her forever. Right now, she still believed he was a nice boy, and he wanted to keep it that way. He might have been able to persuade her to go home, but with Samantha there too, they were stronger and more defiant.

Samantha could see the hesitation in Whiska’s eyes and guessed she was gaining the upper hand. As if to enforce it even more, she strode right over and whispered into Whiska’s ear. “Cast your votes and go home, otherwise I’ll tell your darling mother everything I know about you and the things you’ve done.”

Whiska tensed up. He hissed and barred his teeth at Samantha in frustration.

“Whiska, dearest!” his mother chastised. “What are you doing? Don’t be so childish.”

“Sorry, mother,” he mumbled, his tail between his legs as he grumpily went over to cast his own vote. He dropped it into the ballot box then scampered off, running all the way back to Catting Street to hide and wait for the inevitable outcome.

Strip and Grady were not far behind, but the two of them were not about to give up just yet.

“We’ll go out onto the streets,” they offered. “We’ll threaten the mice there, as they’re lining up to go into the Polling Station. We’ll make sure they vote for you.”

“Alright,” Whiska agreed with a nod. “Do the best you can.”

“We won’t let him win,” Grady assured him, racing back into the center of the Reservation, where the queue was leading right round the block.

Grady hissed at the mice, picking one of them up between his teeth and hurling them away.

“If any of you vote for Mr. Byrd, we’ll find out,” he warned. “We’ll find out and there’ll be severe consequences! Your measly lives won’t be worth living anymore!”

The mice looked terrified, clutching on to one another for protection.

“We won’t,” one of them spoke up. “We’d n-never vote for Mr. B-Byrd, sir. Whiska is the only Prime Minister for us.”

“Yes, that’s right,” another hastily agreed.

Davetil was at the entrance to the Polling Station, greeting mice as they came in through the doors. He saw what was going on and, although he couldn’t hear what Grady was saying, he could imagine what it entailed. Further down the line, Strip appeared to be doing the exact same thing to another group of mice. 

He looked over at his bold and brave son, Cociel, who was further down the road trying to encourage other mice to come and join the back of the line and place their votes. Cociel had never given up, not once. He was an inspiration, and Davetil decided that, despite his age, he still had one or two things he could learn from the younger generation.

With a determined expression, he strode over to the mice that Grady had just been terrorizing and spoke to them. Thankfully, Grady had already moved on to another group by this point.

“It’s not true,” he said. “There’s no way he can find out who you’ve voted for. Once you’re in there, the ballots are entirely anonymous and no one will ever know. You can vote for who you like and they won’t be able to punish you for it.”

One of them began to protest. “But he said – “

“Never mind what he said. He’s lying. He’s just trying to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” said another. “What if he finds out?”

“He won’t find out. How will he find out? Are you going to tell him?”

“No!”

“No!”

“No!” They all replied.

“Well then,” said Davetil. “He won’t find out, will he? Besides, there’s two cats in there making sure the voting process is fair.”

“Cats? There’s cats on our side?” one of them asked, amazed.

“Yes,” answered Davetil proudly. “Whiska’s mother, and Princess Samantha.”

A whisper of approval and excitement passed through the line and Davetil felt he had done a good deed. He moved on and began talking to some of the others, attempting to undo some of the harm that Grady and Strip were causing.

Tails and Cociel did the same, and eventually, so did Piggles, the four of them going up and down the line speaking to people and reassuring them that the votes were going ahead fairly and that no one would be able to find out who they had voted for.

All day long, mice came and went, the line got bigger, then smaller, then bigger again, as everyone in the whole Reservation cast their votes in the election. It was an excellent turnout, and by nightfall, Mr. Byrd and his team were incredibly excited as they watched the ballot boxes get taken away by Samantha and Tilde to be counted.

Everyone agreed that Samantha and Piggles would be the ones to count them. Although Piggles had Mr. Byrd’s best interests at heart, she was moral to a fault and would not even think of cheating or rigging the election. If Whiska had won, he would win fair and square.