Grumble and Gasp: Of Rabbits and Regicide - Chapter 4, Part 1
Wherein rabbits rampage, a royal is resentful, and a prince is perceptive.
Apr 7, 2026 · 8 min read

Of Rabbits and Regicide – Chapter Four: March Madness
by Brude Bowyer
The rabbit emerged from the hole, its white fur no less lustrous for the dirt that coated it. Big innocent eyes blinked in the sunlight, untroubled by the weapons leveled against it from all sides.
Grumle scrambled to his feet and stepped sideways, positioning himself between the creature and Queen Lillith without taking his eyes off the threat. Behind him Orrin and the remaining bodyguards formed a protective ring around the royal family.
“I am Thumper of Leporidia, emissary of His Prolific Majesty King Hopsworth Bunny the Thirty-second,” the rabbit announced, its voice surprisingly deep and cultured. It reached into its sash and produced an ornately sealed scroll, offering it forward slowly. “I have come to negotiate terms.”
Prince Lucien, for once, stood stock-still beside his mother, eyes wide with fascination rather than fear.
King Thaddeus stepped forward, shoulders squared and chin raised. His hand rested meaningfully on his sword’s hilt. “This is an unusual approach to diplomacy, my good rabbit.”
“Necessity often dictates methods, Your Majesty.” The rabbit’s nose twitched twice. “I represent the sovereign claims of the Bunny Kingdoms to all territories west of Buckford. I am authorized to accept your immediate surrender of these lands. It would be done quietly, of course, to maintain Your Majesty’s honor.”
Grumle scanned the treeline and the ground carefully while keeping the rabbit in his peripheral vision. A foreign envoy was unlikely to have come unannounced and alone. His grip on his spear tightened imperceptibly.
King Thaddeus laughed, a sound as cold and brittle as winter ice. “I wasn’t aware that the rabbit kingdoms had developed a sense of humor along with their diplomatic corps.” He gestured dismissively with one bejeweled hand. “These lands have been under Prydein’s protection since before your grandfather’s grandfather nibbled his first clover.”
Thumper’s ears trembled once, the only sign that the insult had registered. “History is written by those with the sharpest quills, Your Majesty. Or in our case—” he smiled, revealing disconcertingly long incisors, “—the sharpest teeth.”
“Your sovereign’s claims are without merit,” Thaddeus continued, ignoring the implied threat. He was now addressing the rabbit as one might speak to a child explaining an outlandish fantasy. “Return to King Bunny and advise him that Prydein’s territories are not up for negotiation. We welcome peaceful trade and cooperation, but this... performance... does him no credit.”
Grumle noticed Lillith shifting her weight behind him, a subtle movement preparing for quick action. She’d sensed the same wrongness in the air that prickled along his spine. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, a silent agreement passing between them. Be ready.
“I feared you might respond thus.” Thumper sighed with theatrical regret. His oversized paw stroked one velvet-soft ear thoughtfully. “His Prolific Majesty instructed me to warn you of consequences should you prove... unreasonable.”
“Consequences?” the king’s voice hardened. “Does your master forget the thrashing he received at Prydein’s hands ten years ago?”
“Ah, yes. The First Rabbit War,” the rabbit’s whiskers quivered with what might have been amusement. “A regrettable conflict fought with conventional tactics. We’ve learned much since then.” Thumper inclined his head with mocking deference. “About how your kind fights. About your weaknesses.” His nose twitched again, sniffing the air.
Lillith stepped forward, ignoring Grumle’s subtle attempt to keep her behind him. “Master rabbit,” she addressed Thumper directly, “perhaps we might discuss these territorial concerns in proper council. A dispute of borders requires maps, historical documentation—”
“The time for paperwork has passed, Your Majesty,” Thumper interrupted, his voice softer now, almost regretful. “My king sent me not for discussion, but to deliver final terms.”
The King’s jaw tightened. “Orrin,” he commanded, “see King Bunny’s diplomatic envoy safely outside our camp. Ensure he has clear passage back to Leporidia.”
“Yes, Sire.” Orrin stepped forward, his huge frame casting a shadow over the diminutive visitor.
Thumper’s demeanor changed in an instant. The polite diplomat vanished, replaced by something bestial and dangerous. His haunches tensed, muscles bunching beneath snow-white fur.
“Your Majesty,” he said, eyes never leaving Orrin’s approaching form, “I shall convey your response. Though I suspect the consequences are already in motion.”
It happened faster than Grumle could shout warning. The rabbit launched itself upward with explosive force, powerful hind legs connecting squarely with Orrin’s breastplate. The impact sent the massive guard stumbling backward a step. Using Orrin’s chest as a springboard, Thumper twisted mid-air, diving headfirst back into the hole from which he’d emerged.
“What manner of diplomatic envoy—” the king began.
The ground shuddered beneath their feet, a tremor running through the earth like a beast awakening from slumber. Grumle’s blood ran cold as he recognized the vibration for what it was. The synchronized movement of countless bodies through tunnels below them.
“It’s a trap,” he said, mouth suddenly dry. “We’re standing on their ambush zone.”
The earth began to bulge in dozens of places throughout the camp, small mounds rising like boils on diseased skin. Grumle backed toward Lillith, spear leveled outward.
The earth split open with a sound like a landslide, rabbits erupting from the ground like vengeful spirits, their fur catching light in the midday sun. They came in waves, dozens of them, bursting through the soil beneath wagons, erupting under the feet of guards, springing up inside tents. Their emergence was synchronized, practiced. A perfectly executed battlefield strategy.
A servant stood frozen, staring in disbelief at the small fluffy creature that had materialized before her. The rabbit’s pink nose twitched once before it launched upward in a graceful arc, a tiny silver blade glinting as it passed. The woman’s scream died in her throat as steel found flesh. She crumpled, blood streaming between fingers clutched desperately to her neck. The rabbit’s bulging eyes making it look just as shocked as the dying woman.
“They’re everywhere!” someone screamed from across the camp. Grumle’s gaze darted to where three guardsmen struggled against what looked like a child’s petting zoo gone mad. White and brown figures swarmed over them blades flashing with each leap.
“Formation!” Orrin shouted to the nearest soldiers. “Shields down, spears out!”
Five guards managed to form a rough circle, shields locked, but the rabbits didn’t attack as expected. They moved like water finding cracks, sliding under shields, leaping between gaps too small for human warriors to defend. One guard screamed as teeth sank into his ankle, severing the tendon with surgical exactness.
A rabbit landed ten paces from Grumle, its oversized eyes meeting his with an expression of perpetual surprise. It wore a leather bandolier across its chest full of tiny blades sheathed in rows.
Grumle thrust his spear forward, but the rabbit was already moving, leaping sideways with unnatural speed. It landed, bounced once like a child’s ball, and hurled itself at his throat.
He caught it midair on his spear point, momentum driving the blade clean through the creature’s chest. Blood splashed hot across his hands as the rabbit tconvulsed, those innocent eyes somehow registering betrayal rather than aggression.
Three more had already emerged from the same hole Thumper had left through, their noses twitching in perfect unison as they assessed their fallen comrade and the man who’d killed him.
A noble’s pavilion collapsed with a muted thump as rabbits severed its support ropes. Silk billowed like a dying jellyfish, trapping noblemen beneath its suffocating folds. Their screams rose in pitch as small shapes moved beneath the fabric, creating ripples that terminated in sudden stillness.
A gray-furred rabbit darted between Grumle’s legs, faster than his eyes could track. He felt, rather than saw the blade, a hot line opening across his calf, targeting his mobility rather than immediately going for a killing blow. They were tactical, these creatures. Fighting not with brute force but with speed and accumulated injuries.
Across the camp, the master-at-arms managed to spear one attacker, lifting the creature high on his halberd like a grisly standard. “We can beat them!” he shouted in triumph. “They die like any—”
Three rabbits landed on his back simultaneously, teeth finding the exposed flesh between helmet and breastplate. He fell wordlessly, weapon clattering to the ground, the last laugh going to the rabbit still impaled on his blade.
The camp had dissolved into primal chaos. Horses screamed and reared, breaking their tethers and trampling both friend and foe in their panic. A supply wagon overturned with a splintering crash, spilling barrels that burst on impact. Wine spread across the ground like blood, mingling with the real thing until the earth drank deeply of both.
“Behind you!” Orrin’s warning brought Grumle back to his own battle.
Grumle dropped to one knee, spear sweeping in a wide arc above him. He caught a rabbit mid-leap, the weapon connecting with a sound like a melon splitting. Blood and viscera splattered across his armor, but he was already rising, already turning to face the next threat.
“They’re not attacking randomly,” Lillith called as she gathered Lucien and Elara behind her skirts. “They’re isolating targets, cutting off retreat paths.” A quick glance around confirmed her assessment. The rabbit’s strategy was proving brutal, efficient, and horrifyingly effective.
Throughout the massacre, not once did the rabbits’ expressions change. Their faces remained serene, their movements quick and playful, like children playing games in a charnel house. They killed without malice, without apparent pleasure, without any acknowledgment that they ended lives with each precise cut. And still they came, erupting from the earth in endless waves of fur and steel.
Thanks for reading. The story is a work in progress, and I welcome all comments and constructive criticism. This is book 0 in the Grumble and Gasp series. If you find yourself liking the story and wanting more, the full first novel is available on Kindle and Amazon.
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