Neither did I, Juniper thought, feeling an inner chill. But farmers are most vulnerable when the crops are ripe. A band of Eaters would be less of a threat.
Eaters tended to be self-destructive and usually more than half mad, and they also died of disease faster than anyone else, naturally enough-a case of catching whatever you ate had. They were like wildfire: hideously dangerous, but inclined to burn itself out quickly.
"We need your help: Lady Juniper," Dixon said.
The last came out as if he had to force it; for herself, she didn't care, but she couldn't let an outsider scorn or disrespect the clan. Reputation mattered these days; it might be the margin between being left in peace and attacked.
"I'll need to talk this over with my advisors, and put it to the clan's vote," she said. "I'd be inclined to help you, gentlemen; it's what neighbors do, and these people are likely to be a threat to us, too. But the plague: you understand why we've been very isolated since the outbreak."
The doctor spoke: "None of our people have the plague," he said, and the others nodded vigorously. "I swear it."
He looked around. "I can: I can reassure you on that, Lady Juniper. If we could talk privately."
Decision firmed. "That's as it may be. I'll have to ask you to scrub down and change clothing at least, before we can go up to the Hall. Ray, show them where."
They'd got the bathrooms in the old Carson place functioning, if you didn't mind hand-pumping and toting wood for heating.
"It shouldn't take long."
"Yes, Lady Juniper," he said, scowling and signaling them towards the farmhouse with the point of his spear.
"And Ray?"
He looked at her, then flushed and hung his head when she shook an admonishing finger; his face looked very young then.
"Be polite. And see that drinking water's brought out for all these folk and their beasts; they're our neighbors and friends, not our enemies. Aithnitear car? cruat? a friend is known in hardship. Threefold, remember?"
When the Sutterdown men had gone, Juniper turned to her escort; Cynthia had the best horse and was the best rider besides.
"I want: Judy, Chuck, Dennis, Diana, your father, and Sam, ready for a private conference at the Hall, and fast," she said.
She looked out at the fresh refugees. Curse it, these are people who were doing all right until today! They had crops harvested, they were going to make it!
"And tell Diana to throw together what ready food we can spare, load a wagon and have it brought down here- we can push it out to them. Eternal Soup ought to do, and maybe some bread and dried fruit. Git, girl!"
Cynthia left in a thunder of hooves. Juniper spent the time pacing and thinking, and once sent out a rider with more orders. Other members of the clan trickled in to take over making sure that the people of Sutterdown didn't surge past the notional line that marked the boundary, and the scouts went back about their business. One emergency didn't mean that another might not pop up.
When the three Sutterdown leaders came out they were in plain dark sweatsuits, though Dixon still grasped his Bible. The wagon arrived promptly at about the same time; Diana had probably diverted something meant for the harvesters, or a party of herd-watchers.
Juniper turned to the men: "We'd like to leave the food on the road, and then have your people share it out. It's not much, but: "
"Thank you very kindly," Laughton said, sincerely.
After the spring and summer past, giving away food was something people took seriously. Even Dixon nodded. He'd been accused of many things, but never of taking more than his share, or letting anyone under his authority do so either.
"And if you'll follow me?"
They perched in the buckboard, one of the ones her clansfolk had liberated from a tourist attraction; it was odd how long that idea had taken to spread. Juniper took the reins and flicked them on the backs of the team. She took the long way round-the fewer people who knew about the other way up from the back of the old Fairfax place, the better.
She could feel them gawking as she drove past the mill, working now and roofed, although the walls were still going up; past the truck plots and potato fields and watering furrow; past haystacks, past archers practicing on deer-shaped targets and others who used sword and buckler on posts or wooden blades on each other; past a hunter, coming in with a brace of deer slung across the packhorse that walked behind her jaunty bow-crossed shoulder.
The Mackenzie clachan, she thought wryly. I wonder what Great-uncle Earl would think of it now – that respectable small-town banker, who left the place to me, of all people? Or any of the other Mackenzies?
Such a trail of their generations, in the Old Country and the long drift westward over mountain and forest, prairie and river. Bad and wicked, a few, feud-carriers and cattle-lifters. Some heroes-her favorites were the two sisters who'd been lynched in North Carolina for helping the Underground Railroad. A scattering of backwoods granny-witches and cunning-men, as well. Plain dirt farmers, the most of them, down all their patient plowing centuries- living in the homes they built and eating from the fields they tilled, until they laid their toil-worn bodies to rest in earth's embrace.
She glanced over her shoulder at the three men from Sutterdown, and felt all those ancestors behind her.
They didn't often walk away from a neighbor's need – and never backed down from bullies!
When they came to the Hall with its half-completed palisade, Laughton burst out:
"How did you get all this done? There aren't that many of you, and I swear nobody could have worked harder than we have!"
The curiosity seemed genuine. Because of that, Juniper answered frankly: "Apart from the favor of Brigid and Cernunnos? Well, mutual help. You people are trying to live mostly with each family on its own, like they did before the Change, but without the machinery and exchange that made that possible."
"We get by," Laughton growled, then flushed and waved a hand around. "Sorry. You obviously do better than 'getting by.'"
Juniper nodded. "Our clan work together and live close, so we can take turns on sentry-go, or support people doing one thing most of the time: or throw nearly everybody at a job that needs doing, like the harvest, with only a few to cook or keep an eye on the children."
"Sounds like communism," Dixon growled.
"It's more like tribalism, Reverend, with a bit of kibbutz thrown in," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "Call it common sense, for now. Things may be different in a few years: or not. And if you'll excuse me a moment, I need to freshen up while my advisors arrive."
She pulled in before the Hall, finished just before the wheat came ripe; Dennis had already started stenciling the designs he wanted to carve into a lot of it, particularly the tall pillars that supported the wraparound second-story gallery and the new roof.
Eilir came out and took the horses.
It's all ready, Mom, she signed, looking at the three men in the wagon with a mixture of curiosity and distaste. Want me to lay out some ceremonial stuff for you? Scare them green, that would!
Thanks, but I'm trying to get them in a mood to cooperate! she replied. A plain brown around-the-house robe: oh, and just for swank, that moon pendant Dennie and Sally made for me.
She dropped to the ground, and winced a little as that jarred into the small of her abused back. It was almost a pity in some ways that they'd reverted to peasant attitudes about early pregnancy. There wouldn't be time for anything but a quick sluice-down, either.
And they're going to make me miss my soak, too, she signed. We old ladies are wont to get irritable and cranky when we miss our soak: Show them up to the room and get 'em the refreshments, my child of spring.
The loft bedroom-office-sanctum was one luxury she'd allowed herself when the Hall was put back together. It still brought her a surge of slightly guilty pleasure as she climbed up the steep staircase from the second-story corridor to join the waiting Sutterdown men.