shoulder to Merithâs support.
I was just turned thirteen. We had celebrated my name day barely ten days gone. All my life had been without sorrow. I found the tale more exciting than fearful. Besides, Honeycoombe was apart. Only those who knew where it lay would find it. And none from here had ridden to the war. Lord Lanson had no soldiers. At need the men of the village armed to follow him, but he kept no men permanently under arms save Jerin. I grinned at the thought.
Jerin had been arms-master to both Lord Lanson and his father, the Lord Lanrale. Jerin was a spare upright old man who now taught weapons-work to the lads of our village. But he was old. Nonetheless, it was Jerin who came striding to our house soon after dusk. He would have spoken privately with Merith and Ithia, but Ithia insisted I share their discussion.
âShe is a child.â
âWould you say so if she were male? She is thirteen and sensible. And if the killers come, will they say she is a child, harm her not?â Ithiaâs voice was tart.
Jerin grunted. âWell enough. Let her listen.â
So listen I did. At first I could not believe what he said, but the women nodded and agreed. We were to make up travel bags. A watch would be set on the main road. If those we feared were seen the alarm would be given and all would flee into the hills. My own father was even now taking the three pack-ponies owned by the village into the uplands. They would bide in the hut on Foral Ridge. The killers would not have them and if we must flee we would have the ponies to aid our escape.
Ithia spoke then. âAll this is wise. Spring comes swiftly now. I will bespeak the bees. If the weather holds we can move them from the village. The lower uplands hold more than one sheltered place where they will be ready to work.
And if those you fear come, we will have no time to move hives.â
âDo as you see fit, Wise One.â Jerin gave agreement. He paused at the door then before he left. âLet you all carry knives. If at the last there is no other choice, see that they are keen of point.â
I did not know then what he meant, but later Ithia told me. I gaped at her. Slay myself? How? I had never thought to do such a thing. I had no idea where or how to strike. She showed me patiently until I knew the blow. I understood something else then; that this was no longer excitement fit for a child. I think in those moments, as I learned how to kill myself, that I also aged. Ithia eyed me closely.
âI have a great task for you, craft-daughter.â I waited. âYou shall go with the bees to the uplands when we move them. I have in mind the furthest pastures, where there is a cave. A small stream runs nearby. You know the place?â I nodded. âGood. You shall take a supply of the Winter-syrup. If the weather chills again you can feed the hives.â She smiled gently. âTake with you your Queen which Welwyn made you. I shall see you have all else.â
That she did, loading one pony with bedding, food, the Winter-syrup, and other small comforts. We left the next day. Behind us trudged the ponies, the other two loaded with the carefully lashed hives, which hummed with anticipation. The hives were light enough so that behind them the two also pulled long, hive-laden sledges. We would return the next day for the remaining hives. We did that and spent the day setting out the hives so that their inhabitantsâ flight-lines should be free of strife. The cave was small but deep. With Ithiaâs preparations it would be warm and comfortable for me. I felt buoyed up by a sense of importance.
She left me early the morning after that. Before she did so she took me in her arms and hugged me warmly. Then she tilted my chin up with one hand and stared into my eyes as if impressing what she would say upon my mind. âI trust you with our wing-friends, Meive. You are kin to
them. In a time of need they will rise to protect
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