The Protectors war

They moved on through the woods and up the steep slope at an angle, a dense forest of tall candle-straight trunks, Douglas fir and western hemlock interspersed with brush and yew, the weed tree of the understory. There was a method to it; you didn't try to hurry, or be absolutely silent-that was impossible. Instead you stopped after you'd made a noise, waited for a second or two, then went on again. A forest at night was full of noises, creak and crackle and vegetable groaning, the drip of moisture from that afternoon's rain, the clicks and whirrs of dark's creatures, the whoo-whit! of an owl, the far-off yipping of a coyote. Footfalls and the occasional crackling of a branch could fit right in, especially if the ones listening weren't woods-wise.

The dogs whuffled, coursing back and forth-faintly contemptuous of how slow humans were, he sometimes thought. The slope grew steeper, and he carefully used the metal spike on the butt of the spear to anchor himself.

Soon.

Garm and Grip froze, a little ahead of him and to either side, their noses pointing like the sides of a triangle. All he had to do was draw the lines out into the night; he even recognized where he was, a bit where the angle of the slope went from forty-five degrees to a more comfortable twenty or so for a brief space. For getting to know the lay of the land even the best scouting didn't equal living on it for years and hunting over it regularly.

His ssssst! froze everyone in place. He left the spear and eeled forward on his belly for a dozen feet, and his dark-accustomed eyes caught light-low, reddish, more reflected off overhead branches than seen directly. He took a long deep breath through his nose, and caught the unmistakable scent of roasting meat. When he went backward Larry Smith and Alice De

"Now," he said, in his ordinary conversational voice-whispers carried further.

He stood and walked forward, the spear grasped like a rifle-and-bayonet combination. His teeth ski

The figures seated around the low fire were intent on the meat grilling across the coals; the little spurts of fire when a drop of fat fell and hit them illuminated faces. Two men, shaggy-bearded; a trio of women-no, one was a girl, sixteen, seventeen at most. Two older kids huddled together under a scrap of canvas, holding it over their heads to make an improvised tent with the open end towards the fire, while two infants lay wrapped like papooses between them.

Proper lot of gallybaggers, he thought, looking at their scarecrow rags and gaunt faces.

The yearling sheep had been butchered with some skill, and a rack of ribs rested above a net of green branches; the kidneys and liver were on sticks, and almost ready. Everyone in the little party watched the food with a dreadful single-minded intensity, the youngsters whimpering now and then.

Until they heard the footsteps, and saw light breaking off the honed edges of the spears. The children shrieked, but the adults and teenager sprang up-an improvised spear, an ax, branch-clubs, stones, the girl with a good knife.

"Hold it!" Aylward barked. "Nobody do anything bloody stupid, and nobody needs to get hurt. Drop the stickers. Throw down! Now!"

He watched the adults count the spearheads, and turn to see that they were ringed around. The man with the hoe-spear slumped in despair as he let it fall; there were thuds and thumps as the others followed suit. The girl, he noted carefully, sheathed her knife rather than following the letter of his instructions.

"Look, mister," the fair-bearded man said. "Look, please: " Then anger burst into his voice: "What harm have we ever done you?"

"You're eating our sheep," Aylward observed.

"Our kids are hungry, goddammit!"

"Ours aren't," Aylward said. "One of the reasons they're not hungry is that we don't let people steal our sheep: Wait a bit, though. Were you lot up north a couple of days ago? Ru

The man gaped at him, and the others clutched each other. "How'd you know?"

One of the others grabbed at a crucifix and whimpered. Aylward gri

"Because I was there, you dozy burke!" he said genially. "If you'd just stopped after that, we'd have seen you right. We're the Mackenzies. If you'd asked for help, you'd have gotten it."

That seemed to frighten them more, and the women clutched at their children.

"You shouldn't believe all you hear," Alice De

The teenager spoke. "Jeff, Miguel, we shouldn't believe anything the Protector or the Baron or their tame priests told us."

That seemed to get home, but these people had been afraid so long that it had become a habit, and one probably hard to break.

"Right," he sighed, and grounded his spear.

Then he reached back into his haversack and pulled out the bundle Melissa had made up for him. "This is ready to eat. Have your cruncheon on me."

He tossed it, and the cloth-wrapped food fell at the teenager's feet with a thump. She didn't waste any time, and when the others saw the bread and meat, and the roast potatoes and twist of salt his wife had packed, their resistance crumbled. The other members of the Dun Fairfax party followed his example. The adult fugitives looked as if they felt like crying as they crammed roast pork and cheese and hard-boiled eggs into their mouths; the children stopped crying as they were fed.

"Careful there," Aylward said. "Don't do yourself an injury."

One of the women nodded, and made the children slow down-by force, mainly. The teenager had been pacing herself from the start. She had striking light eyes, and they met his levelly.

"Do you know the Queen of Witches?" she asked.

"Yes, love, but she wouldn't be overjoyed to hear you call her that," he said. "Lady Juniper's good enough. Sam Aylward's my name."

"Aylward the Archer?" one of the men asked, sounding incredulous.

"I shoot a bit now and then, yes. And you're not four miles from Dun Juniper right now, and herself's in residence."

That got attention, even through the food. The two men looked at each other, but the girl didn't hesitate; instead she stood up and approached him, holding out a squarish bundle wrapped in coarse cloth.

"I took this from the castle," she said. "Baron Gervais's castle. From the office. I was part of the cleaning staff."

Ah, Aylward thought, taking it and stripping off the container. Probably his bar bills. On the other hand, it might explain why he was out after this lot personal-like.

Larry Smith stepped up and shone the bull's-eye on the pages. His eyes opened wider, and Aylward gave a long whistle. The text was in some sort of code, but the maps were plain enough.

" Alice," he said, rewrapping it. "You know your way back?"

"Hell, yes, Sam."

"Get back to the dun, then. Send someone to Lady Juniper and tell her to come-to bring Chuck, and no more else than she must, and come quickly. Send Tamar, and tell her to hurry. We'll get these people back to my place," he concluded. "And everyone, don't chatter on about what you've seen. Alice, you hop to it!"