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They walked beyond the fires and the encampment, into the woods that lay along the river, parkland kept as a pleasaunce for the castle-dwellers of noble rank, a pretty amendment of nature. Far eastward the tiny perfect white cone of Mt. Hood caught the dying sun for an instant, flushing pink and then fading away as the first stars appeared.
A few birds sang, and the river ran slow beneath the willows, glimpsed through the big oaks of the old parkland, some tangled with green English ivy. They came to a clearing where green grass was starred with red paintbrush, green-sweet beneath the cooler forest smell; a bank of poison oak had been turned fire-red by last week's early frost. A doe and two fawns were grazing there, half a hundred yards away; the mother raised her head sharply, then bent again as she saw no movement. There was an added stillness as the humans withdrew their presence, a trick they all knew well.
Judy nudged Juniper softly and leaned close to say quietly:
"Left," she whispered, and Chuck and Nigel froze as well, with the smooth alertness of warriors and hunters.
Juniper turned her head in that direction and almost started in surprise. Not far along the forest edge was Chuck and Judy's son Oak, and his wife, Devorgill, and their children, who'd come along to see him off. One was a baby at the breast, and there was his daughter Lutra and his son Laere. Oak was looking at his parents and gri
That showed because he and Devorgill were wearing only their kilts and sandals and a little body paint-his was a badger's head on his chest-while the children went naked and barefoot, as young Mackenzies often did in warm weather. They had a basket on the ancient but well-maintained rustic picnic table and the remains of a meal set out on it, a chance to take one last supper together without the bustle of the camp or the strained formalities of the castle. The adults' longbows and quivers and sword belts leaned against an alder behind them, and a long-headed battle spear, though it would be a mad bandit indeed who dared to come here. Still, habits learned in the years of the great dying stuck hard and got passed down.
Juniper nodded back. The children's gaze stayed fixed on the spotted coats of the June-born fawns, who peered about at the world big-eyed. She could hear the low whisper of Laere's five-year-old voice as he asked:
"Are you going to hunt them, Dad? There are an awful lot of people here the now, they must need an awful lot of food too."
"No, boyo, that I will not, and for two reasons," Oak said.
Devorgill moved, laying a gentle finger on Lutra's mouth as the girl started to burst forth with the answer before her younger brother. Oak went on, in the same low voice:
"When's it lawful to hunt, my little Laere?"
The boy was his father in miniature and minus twenty-odd years; his hair was a mop of white tow and his eyes brilliant blue in his freckled, summer-darkened face as he frowned in thought.
"For food… an'… an' when they try to eat our gardens?"
His mother spoke: "That's true; but you must also never hunt a doe in fawn, or any deer less than a year old. That brings a curse, unless you're starving and make a special rite. The Mother's hand is over them."
Young Lutra nodded, making the dark brown hair that fell in a thong-bound horsetail to the small of her back bounce. She spoke quietly:
"And this is a place that's never hunted, like a Nemed, so they're not man-wary and it's geasa to kill here, sure and it is."
Laere stuck his tongue out at her, and she replied in kind, being all of five years older herself.
"But we can go and visit them in peace today," Oak said, smiling down at them with a warm delight on his rugged face. "The wind's from them to us. Come, and let's see if you can walk very quietly. Step when I do, and be as careful as mice!"
He took each by the hand, winking at his wife-and at Juniper and Sir Nigel and his own parents.
Father, son and daughter walked out into the dappled, darkening shade of the clearing, still lit by a few beams of the setting sun slanting like orange fire though the tall trees. Both children walked softly, but no more so than their woods-wise father's hundred-and-eighty pounds of bone and hard muscle. He kept the deer in focus but without meeting their eyes when their heads turned, avoiding a predator's fixed gaze. Each step flowed like slow water, and whenever their heads came up and sca
The doe walked a little away from the fawns, her tail quivering, her reddish brown coat fading to darkness as the light failed. Closer
…
Lutra dropped her father's hand and reached out. A fawn sniffed her fingers, began to dodge, then stopped as she gently ran her hand down its neck. It tilted its head and looked at her oddly as if wondering what she was. Laere tried to do the same with the other, but he moved a little too sharply. It shied, and a stick crackled beneath its hooves; the doe brought her head up and made a sharp bleating sound.
Juniper chuckled a little then as the deer bounded away, in arcs that made them seem like weightless shadows that vanished under the trees. The two children stood waving and calling farewells for a moment, then came back to their blankets.
"That's her saying- Great Goddess, foolish child, it's a human!" Juniper said, and the others laughed as her singer's voice made it sound very like the doe's bleat. " They'll eat you! Will you be friends with a wolf next?"
"Grandma!" Laere said, and charged past Juniper to hug Judy around the waist and be lifted up on her hip and given a smacking kiss.
"Merry met," Juniper said to Devorgill and her children and her man.
That was a little formal for people who lived in Dun Juniper year-round, but Oak was off to war tomorrow. It would have been inconceivable for the son of the Clan's Chief Armsman not to march with the war-band, and Oak was bow-captain for Dun Juniper's own contingent.
"Merry met, Lady Juniper," they replied.
Lutra had hair as seal brown as her mother's and eyes the dark green of fir needles; she made a solemn reverence, bowing her head with hands pressed together and thumbs beneath her chin. That was a little too formal for the occasion, but the girl was obviously feeling very adult and knowledgeable today.
"Dad says I can go hunting with him next year," Laere said proudly, trotting back to stand by the man.
"To help with the camp chores," Oak said firmly; his hand ruffled the boy's head in a rough caress. "With your sister. Neither of you is old enough to hunt yet, not for years, not until you can make a kill quick and sure."
Lutra nodded. "You know the song of the law, Laere," she said.
Laere looked like he'd rather stick his tongue out at his sister once more for playing at old-and-wise again, or possibly pull her hair this time, but had too much in the way of ma
"Let the death be clean as life's release
So we show our honor to the beast
For your own death you will understand
When you hold life's blood within your hand-"
The boy smiled back and continued in a pure treble:
"Though we draw the bow an' we w-w… uh…"
His father and mother came in to help him as he wobbled:
"-and we wield the blade
We respect the Law the Gods have made;