page 8

Suddenly, Kennit stopped still and staring. Jerem took a couple of steps forward before he noticed his brother's stillness. He looked at Kennit, his mouth open to speak to his brother, then turned to see what the older boy was looking at without speaking. Catta's gaze followed as well. Near a tree, where he had been looking at the camp, was a man, dressed in green and brown. His face wore much the same surprised expression that Kennit's did. In the moment it took to realize that the man was not someone they knew, he drew a short sword and charged Kennit.

It happened so fast, Catta thought afterward, she just acted without knowing what exactly she was going to do. Jerem swung his stick, and the man's feet tangled in it and he fell flat. The sword skittered out of his grasp. Catta jumped on his back, and grabbed a hand full of the man's hair, pulling his head back as she pulled her knife from her belt. Jerem dove to land on the man's legs so that he could not kick Catta off. She slit his throat before he could yell and the three of them watched the blood drain from the strange man in shocked silence.

“Who is he?” Kennit finally asked. “Who was he?”

“I don't know, but he didn't mean you any good.” She pointed with her chin at the blade that had fallen from the man's grip when he had sprawled to the ground. Kennit picked it up and looked at the blade, then back at the dead man.

Jerem stood beside his brother looking from Catta to Kennit, then towards camp. It seemed no one had heard the scuffle, because no one approached to see what had happened. “What do we do now?” He asked.

Catta stood as well, although her knees suddenly seemed weak. She still held her knife, now covered with blood. There was blood on her hand as well, and she could feel her hands wanting to shake. Get moving or fall down, she thought. “Lets go see if my pop is back in the camp.”

They entered camp near their own tents without so much as a “Hallo” from any of the watch. No wonder that stranger was so close to camp, Catta thought. She finally got a little shiver of fear, realizing they may have been watched for days. Her father and his men had not returned yet, so they approached the older who had organized the watch. He sent men with Kennit to check the trees where Catta pointed, then listened to her story.

That afternoon, checking and collecting snares was quick work, and under more and watchful eyes. The food was needed, but not at the cost of a younger. Kennit and Catta left Jerrem in the camp as they followed their morning trail. They moved quickly through the circuit this time, even with the small game they had managed to trap. The camp would eat well tonight, and be stronger for their move tomorrow.

Later, when her father returned, she told related the morning's events again, showing her father the blade the man had carried. Her father and his men looked over the youngers with an assessing eye, then checked the body and decided what to do with it. They did not share with Catta and the boys what their decisions were, or include them in the final disposition of the dead man. The sword, and the knife the man had carried, along with his bow and store of arrows were welcomed into their small armory, however.

page 7

Wallach and his men gathered their weapons and walked into the woods. Annie took a basket and walked upstream, the way they had come the day before. Catta organized the children into pairs, giving the youngest line and hooks, hoping for some trout from the stream. Others got lengths of line for snares and instructions not to wander too far. Catta and Kenit took snares as well, and set out through the trees with Jerem on their heels. Jerem had a rough bag slung over one shoulder. Catta raised an eyebrow wondering what he was going to put into the bag, but then decided it didn't much matter, almost anything could help.

They set off downstream. As the sounds of the camp faded, they listened to the forest. They moved as quietly as they could, discovering that they made more noise than they would have thought. They paused by likely brush to set a snare here and there. Jerem found some wild onion, which went into the bag he carried.

After a while they veered off from the stream, planning to circle around back towards the camp. The going got slower through the brush and evergreens without a clear trail to follow. They picked up anything they thought might be useful: a few straight sticks they though might be good for arrows, and some moss that Jerem thought Annie Blackpot would be able to use in her healing, although Catta wasn't sure he knew what he was talking about.

They peered from the woods into a clearing where a herd of deer were grazing. They watched the deer as they warned each other of intruders, then cautiously went back to grazing. Kenit wished for his father's bow, thinking how it would feel to bring a buck to camp for a feast of venison. All they had was Jerem's practice stick, and a couple of belt knives, though. Nothing that would get them a deer.

They moved away and back towards camp looking for landmarks that could lead them back to the clearing. Hoping that she hadn't lost her bearings totally, Catta urged the others on a heading toward the stream. When they got close enough to hear the sound of wood getting chopped and they worked their way towards camp, stopping once to collect a hare from one of the snares.

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Before the sun set, they had nearly everyone in camp, lined up in squads of ten, although the groups were scattered according to the sort of clear spaces surrounding their camp. The retired soldiers held steel, their charges held sticks, axes, wood pokers or even long knives, depending on age and availability.

Catta looked expectantly at her father, ready to begin. She had actually practiced some of the drills with her father. Next to her, Kenit, old enough to make a soldier, held an ax at ready. He had a decent stance, Wallach thought, perhaps he had been shown the drill as well. Beside his brother, the younger boy, Jerem, held his stick too tightly and had grim determination on his face. They went slowly through the first drill, and training began.

The next camp, the next evening, the next training drill. Wallach noticed the determined look was still on Jerem's face, and his grip was still too tight, but his stick had changed. Now, it had a crossguard, marking the delineation between “haft” and “blade.”

Wallach approached the boy seriously, moving his hands a bit and showing him the proper grip. The boy nodded, moving his stick around experimentally. “Now, remember to keep your knees bent just a little, and your feet beneath your shoulders, like Kenit.” The boy nodded again, and shifted his stance. Almost everyone in the second rank shuffled a bit as they changed their positions as well.

The next day, the smell of smoke was in the air, and the refugees were worried and restless. They decided the camp would stay put, while scouts went to check out what was happening. Wallach suggested to Kenit and Catta to set out some snares. Annie prepared to do a little foraging for some early herbs. Maybe find something to stretch the food stores a little as well.

Some of the olders set up a patrol around the camp, taking turns walking around armed with an ax. A couple of them had found lengths of wood suitable for staves, and worked on shaping and smoothing them. Jerem was working on his wooden sword, showing what he had done to another boy about the same size. The air of restless fear seemed to fade from around the tents and small firepits.