S. Stirling - The Protectors war

Behind Juniper Sam Aylward and John Hordle and Eilir strung their bows and nocked arrows with quick sure movements. The rest of the party used ruthless elbows and shoulders to give them a clear field of fire, and Astrid and the Lorings poised to leap the fence. Astrid slipped her sword free of its belt and unbuckled, wrapping a length of it around her right hand so that she could snap it like a whip in the mare's face to drive her back.

Juniper swallowed, watching the horse shake its head and stare at the small form before it. Time seemed to slow, as if the air was become thick amber honey and she imprisoned in it like an unwary insect. Her own breath roared in her ears, and her heartbeat was like a great slow Lambeg drum beating beneath her throat, and every particle of dust was crystal clear and etched in memory. Her mouth opened to call the archers to shoot the horse down, but a hand closed about it, vast and impalpable. Instead she spoke in a flat tone of command:

"Wait. Wait and watch. Don't let anyone startle the beast."

She could feel their incredulity, but the moment stretched, tighter and tighter like a rope hauling up some great weight, the only sound the very faint creak of the bowstaves. The honed razor edge of the broadheads glinted at the corner of her vision, etched with death.

"Epona," Rudi said, and his voice was like the wind itself. "Epona."

The horse shifted slightly, turning its head to watch him, small and unthreatening.

"Epona, you know me, my lady. You've always known me. From the days when we ran together in the country where the forever trees grow. I'm Artos."

Juniper felt a small electric jolt, flaring through the power points of her body. That's his Craft name! she thought; her own interior voice was infinitely distant, as if she was disconnected from her body, but she could feel everything so immediately, even the slight prickle of the plaid's wool against her neck above the brooch. Sweat ran down her flanks and slid into her eyes, although the day wasn't hot.

I haven't even told him his Craft name! Who did? Chuck heard at the Wiccanning, but he wouldn't tell "We know each other, lady. No fear, ever again. You know me."

Rudi took a single slow step forward, speaking in the voice of a harp, his small hands stroking the air to either side. Juniper felt as if those moments stretched into infinity, full of visions of the hooves hammering down on the small body, of the great square teeth sinking in and lifting him and shaking him like a rat. But the fear that choked her throat was nothing beside the greater power that held her motionless, as if a voice with the weight of worlds in it commanded.

Rudi spoke again: "Epona. We're together again, and it's all right."

The proud neck arched, the mare snuffling at his face and hair. Rudi stroked her nose, then ran a hand down her neck, eased the bit out of her mouth. He made a slight disgusted sound as he threw it down-it was a chain-curb with a barbed lever to press within-and breathed into her nose, urging her around until she was facing the sun over the Cascades.

Then he grabbed a handful of mane and vaulted onto the great animal's back, his legs clamping down on her barrel. The horse reared again, bugling a neigh, then came down with its forefeet stamping in the dust, raising puffs that drifted away like yellow-brown clouds.

"You're Epona!" Rudi said, and this time his voice sounded the way a trumpet might, if it was young and happy. "Epona and Artos. We run, but we don't run away 'cause we're scared. Wait!"

There was a single moment of electric tension, and then he clapped his heels to the mare's ribs and leaned forward over her neck. She shot ahead as if launched from a catapult, and the crowd at the corral's gate flung themselves flat. That was needless; the mare's hooves would have cleared their heads if they stood on tiptoe. She landed like dandelion fluff and pivoted down a lane between two paddocks full of draft oxen in the same motion, scattering folk to either side, and disappeared into the open fields beyond to the west, lifting over a hedge like a great black eagle. Boy and horse dwindled as he flew down the long meadows beside the Sutter River; from here they could see for miles into the valley, and they became a speck and then invisible faster than seemed possible.

Signe Havel came up beside her, milk white and trembling. "Oh, God, Juney, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me-"

She jarred to a halt as Juniper touched her on the sleeve and gave her one quick glance. "I don't have time to be angry now, Signe. And besides: I think I do know what came over you. Us."

The blond woman clasped a hand over her own mouth.

The crowd waited, spilling into the corral but leaving a space near the gate where Mike Havel stood like a statue.

When Rudi returned he sat with back erect and one hand on his hip, the other resting lightly on the curve of the arched neck; Epona's hooves struck the ground with a ringing sound, like the cymbals of a conqueror. She stood silently as Rudi flung a leg over her neck and slid to the ground and into Mike Havel's arms.

The Bear Lord was weeping. His voice was hoarse as he folded the boy into an embrace and spoke: "My son, my son!"

And everyone heard that, too, she thought. Oh, Powers, what have You done to us? After a moment: And what song is it that You are playing this time, with us as Your instruments?

"OK, this time you fucked up, Signe. Bad. Really, really bad."

Signe's face was still pale under its honey tan, and she was silent for long moments.

The guesthouse had been a bed-and-breakfast before the Change; even within the new wall, Sutterdown still had plenty of room, and the four-poster bed and flock wallpaper were pretty enough. There wasn't room enough to pace, though, so he went and looked out the window ahead. There was plenty of light in the crowded streets below, even though it was an hour after the late summer sunset-lantern- and candlelight from windows, torches, and southward, on its hilltop, the balefire boomed and danced behind the black outlines of the covenstead's pillars, and he could see figures dance about it under a thutter of drums.

"Mike: Juney said: "

He turned. "Yeah. She thinks Big JuJu made you do it, though only because you wanted to at some level anyway. But you know something, Signe? Smart as she is other times, when that subject comes up Juney is fucking crazy. Like you hadn't noticed? I seem to remember you saying so yourself. And second thing, I don't believe in Big JuJu."

"I'm sorry," she said, in a small voice.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. You tried to kill a kid-my kid, specifically, but there's a matter of principle involved, and you should have noticed that too. I'm telling you now, Signe, that if you want us to stay together, you never, ever try anything even remotely like this again. Got it?"

She nodded, and he went on: "It's late. Let's sleep." A wry quirk of the lips. "The Protector's man is arriving tomorrow, to talk about Arminger's kid."

Sutterdown, Willamette Valley, Oregon

August 24th, 2007 AD-Change Year Nine

Juniper received the Protector's ambassador in Sutterdown's town hall, which had once-long before the Change-been a church; the broad high-ceilinged room that had been the nave was usually used for public meetings these days, plus dances and sundry social events; banners and wheat sheaves and horns-of-plenty on the walls remained from the last such. His party carried a flag of truce, and in any event the horse fair itself was peace-holy, sacred to Epona and sanctuary for all but those formally outlawed.

Which Eddie Liu should be. And we're in for a blizzard of formality, Juniper thought. Then: Sacred to Epona:

She shivered slightly at that thought and instead watched Eddie Liu approach, the boots of his party sounding hollow on the hardwood floorboards. Mackenzies with bows across their backs and spears grounded before them waited silent and motionless along either side of the aisle, looking a little strange in the Victorian-era room with its plastered roof and tall arched windows, and a mixed crowd waited behind them. Tom Brannigan sat beside her, and Sam Aylward on the other side; Mike and Signe Havel were at one end of the table, Mathilda Arminger at the other, and the Clan's banner of antlers and moon hung on the wall behind. Conspicuously, the Clan's Bearkiller allies had their sheathed swords lying on the table before them; equally, the ambassadors were unarmed-even Mack, Liu's giant two-legged Doberman, though he could probably pluck a normal man apart. From the crowd behind the Clan's spearmen, she could see Little John Hordle giving the massive figure of the bodyguard a considering glance.