Excerpt: From the Isles of Orion

Inside, by the fire, it is quiet. Everyone looks up at her. Duncan stands on the far side of the cave. He had been speaking with someone else but stopped and is now looking at her. She gives him a curt nod and then sits.

“We were attacked at dawn today...”

As Duncan tells a more public version of the story, a couple of men bring a plate of food and a cup of drink to Cerry. By the time she is finished, Duncan has stopped speaking and sat down. She passes the empty plate and cup to one of the men and rises.

“We have reached our destination. We have come here to ponder the larger aspects of this life and the phenomenon of the universe. These men, these attackers have destroyed only the body. What is really sacred here has not been touched.

“You may have thought that I came here to run away,” she looks at Lord Kennison and Lady Marion. “I have come here to begin an attack. Before we turn to such mundane matters, let us grieve the passing of valiant companions who have defended what they knew to be true.” Cerry turns toward Duncan.

Duncan says, “Mark, Cerilla.” Mark and Cerilla pick up a stretcher and move out to the front of the cave. The rain has made the canvas bundles wet and heavy. Two men help load a bag on the stretcher. They move into the cave and, lowering the stretcher, tip the body to the floor. They tip it behind the bonfire and further into the cave, towards the dark interior. Then they go back to the front of the cave.

Those sitting on the floor by the fire watch in silence. Lord Kennison is standing watching carefully. He has pulled out a posy and sniffs it discreetly. Marion has half risen up and watches prayerfully, her hands in the ancient traditional symbol of communication with a higher power. The handmaidens sit solemnly, heads bowed. A couple have raised their hoods and shroud their faces. Cerry suddenly remembers that one of the handmaidens was promised to one of the dead. She turns her head and sighs deeply.

Ruel has much to pay for.