S. Stirling: Lord of Mountains

“ Who will go down to the holy groves

To summon the Shadows there

And tie a garland on the sheltering leaves-”

Maud Mackenzie brought the guest-cup, a horn of hot cider with spices; now that she was Tanist and acknowledged successor to their mother as Chief of the Clan that duty fell to her. Rudi felt a pang as he took it; this wasn’t his home anymore, not really. That feeling was redoubled when Juniper guided him to the High Seat with its carved ravens. He smiled at her grin and wink and took it, hanging the Sword from one of the carved bosses.

Aunt Judy-Oak’s mother, and his mother’s oldest friend-plunked a piece of her carrot cake down on the arm of his chair; she was an herbalist and healer of note, the founder and manager of the Clan’s medical tradition, and also a very fine cook.

“What’s a king for, if not to enjoy a piece of cake?” she said.

Rudi leaned back with a sigh and took a forkful. The Hall smelled of the dinner cooking, and of the great fir-tree in one corner-the decoration had just started. There would be music and dancing beforehand; it was a very grave situation indeed that Mackenzies didn’t consider improvable by some song and dance. And storytelling, and riddles, and…

“What’s a king for indeed?”