PRONOUNCING DOOM

DUN CARSON

(EAST-CENTRAL WILLAMETTE VALLEY)

DÙ THCHAS OF THE CLAN MACKENZIE

(FORMERLY WESTERN OREGON)

5TH AUGUST, CHANGE YEAR 1/1999 AD

I am riding to pass sentence on an evildoer, Juniper Mackenzie thought. It’s part of being Chief, but I liked being a folk musician a lot better! The old tales were less stressful as songs than real life.

“Water soon, Riona, ” she said to her horse, and the mare twitched her ears backward.

The smell of horse sweat from the dozen mounts of her party was strong, though she’d been used to that even before the Change; a horse-drawn Traveler wagon had been part of her persona, as well as fun. It was a hot day after a dry week, perfect harvest weather, which was more important than comfort. It didn’t usually rain in summertime here, but that didn’t mean it absolutely couldn’t happen.

In the old world before the machines stopped, rain would have been a nuisance. Now, in the new world—where food came from within walking distance or didn’t come at all—it would be a disaster. So the heat and the sun that threatened her freckled redhead’s skin was a good thing, and the sweat and prickling be damned. At least there was less smoke in the air than there had been last summer, in the first Change Year.

Her mouth thinned a little at the memory; it had been burning cities then, and forest fires raging through woods where deadwood had accumulated through generations of humans trying to suppress the burn cycle. The pall had lain like smog all over the Willamette country, caught in the great valley between the Cascades and the Coast Range until the autumn rains washed it out.

Always a little bitter on the lips, the taste of a world going down in flame and horror. Always reminding you of what was happening away from your refuge.

With a practiced effort of will she started to force herself back into the moment, to the slow clop of hooves on the asphalt, the moving creak of leather between her thighs and the sleeping face of her son in the light carrying-cradle across the saddlebow before her. Strips of shadow from the roadside trees fell across her face, like a slow flicker as the horses walked.

You had to learn to do that, or the memories would drive you mad. Many had gone mad with what they’d seen and done and endured after the machines stopped, in screaming fits or rocking and weeping or just an apathy that killed as certainly as knife or rope or Yersinia pestis in the lungs. Many of them people who might have lived, otherwise. Even now there was still very little to spare for those not functional enough to pull their weight, though the definition of sane had gotten much more elastic.

What surplus there was had to go to the children; they’d rescued as many orphans as they could. When a youngster learned to laugh again, it gave you heart that the world would go on.

So you’re not smelling fire all the time this year. Enjoy that. Think about the children growing up in a world you have to make worth it; your children, and all the others. Don’t think of the rest.

Especially don’t think of what those mass graves in the refugee camps around Salem smelled like, where the Black Death hit. She hadn’t gotten very close, on that scouting trip. But close enough—

No.

Scents of dust, the subtly varied baked-green smells of grass and trees and crops, the slight musty sweetness of cut stems. The lands around Dun Carson were mostly harvested now, flat squares of dun stubble alternating with pasture, clumps of lushly green Douglas fir and Garry oak at intervals or along creeks running low and slow with summer.

A reaper pulled by two of those priceless quarter horses traded from the ranching country east of the Cascades was finishing its work as they passed. The crude wire-and-wood machine had been built over the winter from a model salvaged from a museum. Its revolving creel pushed through the last of a rippling yellow-blond field and the rattling belt behind the cutting bar left a swath of cut grain in its wake. The driver looked up long enough to wave, then went back to her work.

Last year they’d used scythes from garden-supply stores and from walls where they’d been souvenirs for lifetimes, and improvised sickles and bread-knives and the bare hands of desperately unskilled refugees working until they dropped. Farming like this was grinding hard work even if you knew what you were doing, and so few did. Fortunately they had a few to direct and teach the rest, some real farmers, some hobbyists, and a few utterly priceless Amish fled from settlements overrun by the waves of starving refugees or the kidnap squads of Norman Arminger, the northern warlord.

We’ve mostly harvested what we planted last year; now we need to get on to the volunteer fields.

Much—most—of the land planted to grain before the Change had just stood until the kernels fell out of the ear. Chaos and fighting as people spilled out of cities instantly uninhabitable when electricity and engines failed, plague and bandits and sheer lack of tools and skill. A field left like that self-seeded enough to produce a second crop, thin and patchy and weedy but a thousand times more valuable than gold.

Sunlight flashed off the spears of the binders following along behind the reaper. They moved the weapons up each time they advanced to tie a new double armful of cut wheat into sheaves and stand them in neat tripods. She blinked at the way the honed metal cast the light back, remembering …

… the little girl the Eaters used as decoy giggling and bringing out the knife and cutting for her throat, and the smell so much like roast pork from the shuttered buildings behind her …

“Focus, ” Judy Barstow Mackenzie said from her other side.

And we help each other to … not exactly forget … put it aside. Are any of us still completely sane? Are there any of us who aren’t suffering from … post-traumatic stress disorder, wasn’t it called? Certainly it’s the ones who were least anchored in the world-as-it-was who’ve done best since the Change. The rest cling to us.

“Thanks, ” Juniper said.

“What’s a Maiden for? ” Judy said stoutly. “If not to keep her High Priestess on track? ” The tone was light, but Juniper leaned over and touched her shoulder.

“And friends, ” she said. “Friends do that. ”

They’d known each other since their early teens—a decade and a half ago, now, and they’d discovered the Craft together. They were very unlike: Juniper short and slight and with eyes of willow-leaf green, Judy bold-featured, big-boned, and olive-skinned, raven-haired and inclined to be a little stout in the old days.

“That too, sure and it is, arra! ” Judy said in a mock-Irish accent plastered over her usual strong trace of New York, and winked. “I wouldn’t be thinkin’ otherwise. ”

Juniper winced slightly at the brogue. She could talk that way and sound like the real thing. Her mother had been genuine-article Irish when she met a young American airman on leave in the London pub where she was working. From Achill Island in the west of County Mayo at that, where she’d grown up speaking Gaelic. That burbling lilt had only tinged Juniper’s General American, except when she let it out deliberately during performances—she’d been a singer before the Change, working the Renaissance Faires and pagan festivals and conventions.

Nowadays she used it more and more, especially on public occasions. If people were going to put it on anyway, at least she could give them something more to imitate than fading memories of bad movies on late-night TV.

“It’s going to be unpleasant, but straightforward, ” Judy said seriously. “I did the examination and there’s no doubt about it. He’s guilty and he deserves it. ”

“I know. ” Juniper took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I’m feeling so … out of control, ” she said. “And that’s a fact. It’s …”

She looked upward, into a sky with only a few high white wisps of cloud. “It’s as if there were a thunderstorm coming, and there isn’t. ”

The Dun Juniper procession came around the bend and Juniper sighed to herself at the sight of the tarps strung by the crossroads between the roadside firs and oaks and Lombardy poplars. Partly that was sheer desire for shade. Partly it was …

Her daughter’s fingers flew; Eilir had been deaf since birth:

Why the frustrated sighing, Great Mother? she asked. They’ve done what you asked.

Juniper sent her a quick, irritated glance. Eilir looked as tired as her mother felt, despite being fourteen and very fit. She was tall, already a few inches taller than her mother, strong and graceful as a deer; the splendid body was a legacy of her father, who’d been an athlete and football player.

And a thoughtless selfish bastard who got a teenager pregnant on her first time and in the backseat of his car at that. But then Eilir’s wit and heart come from the Mackenzie side, I think!

Juniper filled her lungs and let the flash of temper out with the breath, a technique mastered long ago.

She signed: Do you feel it? There’s an anger in the air. In the ground, in the feel of things, like alouring threat.

Eilir’s pale blue eyes narrowed, then went a little distant.

I think so, Spooky-Mom, she replied after a moment. Yes, a bit.

They both looked at Judy, who shook her head and shrugged.

“Not me. You’re the mystical one. I just made sure we had clean robes and plenty of candles for the Sabbats. ”

The Earth is the Mother’s, Eilir signed, her face utterly stark for once. Maybe it’s Her anger we’re feeling.

They halted in the center where the roads met. Juniper handed down her nine-month-old son, Rudi, to Melissa Aylward Mackenzie, swelling with her own pregnancy.

“I feel it too, ” the younger woman said seriously.

She was new-come to the Old Religion, like so many others, but already High Priestess of Dun Fairfax, and here to help with organizing the rite.

“Let’s hope we’re doing the right thing in Her eyes, then, ” Juniper said. “Get the littles in order, would you, Mellie? This is going to be hard on them. ”

She nodded soberly, then smiled a little as she hefted Rudi expertly. Juniper shook her head and stretched in a creak of saddle leather; riding made your back ache. Some distant part of her noticed how casual people had already become about standing in the middle of roads, now that cars and trucks were a fading memory.

We’ve better things to do than this, she went on to her daughter. Her fingers and hands danced, asfluent as speaking aloud: It’s the harvest and nobody has time to spare. Spending most of yesterdayand last night hammering out the ritual and the guidelines for this was hard, even with ten minds pooled together. I hate having to do things on the fly, especially when it’s setting a precedent … but what else can we do?

Eilir shrugged. Lock him up like they used to, until it’s convenient?

Juniper didn’t bother to dignify that with an answer; it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. Nor could they spare anyone to supervise a criminal’s labor, even if they were willing to go down that road, which they weren’t.

Sam Aylward, her chief armsman, held her stirrup as she dismounted. She stretched again as her boots touched the asphalt, settling the plaid pinned across her shoulder with a twitch. The Dun Juniper contingent were all wearing the same Highland costume, one that had started as half a joke and spread because it was so convenient. All in a sort of dark green–light brown–dull orange tartan that owed everything to a warehouse full of salvaged blankets and nothing whatsoever to Scotland.

About a third of the Dun Fairfax folk wore the kilt too, and the clothing of the rest showed in tears and patches and tatters why the pre-Change clothes were running out so shockingly fast. They just weren’t designed to stand up under the sort of daily grind of hard outdoor labor that nearly everyone did these days. And salvaging more from the unburned parts of the cities was getting to be impossibly dangerous and labor-intensive now that the nearby towns had been stripped. Only big well-armed parties could do it at all, what with bandits and pint-sized warlords popping up everywhere and the crawling terror of the Eater bands lurking in the ruins amid their hideous game of stalking and feasting.

A note popped up from the vast sprawling mental file cabinet she had to lug around these days:

Check on the flax and wool and spinning-wheel projects after we’ve got the harvest out of the way. We don’t need to make our own cloth yet, but we have to have the seeds and tools and skills built up for when we do.

She’d been a skilled amateur weaver herself before the Change, and they’d organized classes in it over the winter. Fortunately it was something you could put down and pick up later.

Melissa left her group and walked over to the stretched tarp shelter to the southwest of the crossroads where the children and nursing mothers sat. Rudi gurgled and waved chubby arms, his eyes and delighted toothless smile fixed on her face.

Thank the Lord and Lady he’s a good baby. Eilir was a lot more trouble. Of course, I had less knowledge then, and a great deal less help. It really does take a village, or at least that makes it a lot easier.

“They’re doing flags for all the Duns, ” Juniper observed to Chuck Barstow. “It’s a good idea, sure. People need symbols. ”

“Dennie had it right when he insisted on the green flag, though, ” Chuck said. “We need a symbol for the whole Clan as well. Where do you want it? ”

Juniper pursed her lips. She’d made the old sigil of the Singing Moon Coven into a flag: dark antlers and crescent silver moon on green silk. Embroidery was another skill that had turned from hobby to cherished lifeline. The still air of the late summer made it and all the others planted around the tarp shelters hang limp, as if waiting with indrawn breath. Fortunately hers was suspended from a crossbar on the staff, which meant you could see what was on it.

“Next to Dun Carson’s, please. ”

Dun Carson’s silver labrys on blood red was planted right in front of the northwest tarp, where the crossroads made a vaguely north–south, east–west cross. Chuck planted the point on the bottom of the Clan’s into the earth with a shove and twist. Brian Carson stood with his brother’s widow and his orphaned niece and nephew, next to the two tables she’d requested at the center. His wife, Rebekah, stood on his other side, looking a little stiff.

Melissa and her helpers took over the job of looking after the littles. The southeast quadrant held representatives from other duns within a fifteen-mile radius; volunteers came forward to take the horses, unsaddling and hobbling and watering them before turning them loose in a pasture.

How the Change has limited us, thought Juniper. Fifteen miles is a long way again! This will be recorded and sent out in the Sun Circle. Some witnessing is a good idea, but turning it into a circus is not.

There were better than fifty adults under the judgment tarp, probably ten or fifteen teenagers— —eò ghann, thought Juniper. We’ll call them eò ghann.

That meant youth or helper in her mother’s language.

We need a name for the teenagers who are ready to begin to learn the adult needs and responsibilities, but not yet given a vote. Eó ghann will do, since everyone seems determined to play at being Celts.

Juniper shook herself slightly. The profound silence was broken only by the occasional wail from one of the babies, the hoof-clop of a horse shifting its weight or a cough coming through clearly. No trace of the whine and murmur of machine noise in the background anymore, and that still startled her sometimes with a quietness unlike anything she’d ever experienced unless on a hiking trip in wilderness. It made familiar places unfamiliar.

She stood behind the large folding table. There was a tall chair for her …

A bar stool! she thought. That’s funny on more levels than I can cope with today.

Most people were sitting on sturdy boxes and baskets in neat rows, very unlike the Clan’s usual laissez-faire order. Front and center sat the man who was the focus of this day’s process, set apart from them by the white tarp under him and a clear circle of aversion.

On either side of him stood men from the Dun. They had knives in their belts, but that was simply the tool everyone carried now. One also had a pickax handle in his hand, though, and the other a baseball bat.

And they’re needed, Juniper thought as she took him in with a grimace. Yes, with this one.

He was a strong man, of medium height and well muscled, with striking chiseled features and curly black hair he wore fairly short. The sort who quivered with suppressed anger at the world, to whom everything that thwarted his will was an elemental affront.

He’s not afraid, really, she thought; she’d always been good at reading people. Which means he’s not only wicked, he’s very arrogant, very stupid, or both.

As she watched, he shot a sudden glance over his shoulder, a flicker of something triumphant on his face, which he schooled at once as he looked forward again.

“Armsmen, take custody of the prisoner, ” she said coolly, and saw a moment’s doubt on his face. The men of the Dun moved aside for Sam and Chuck and went to sit with the rest. From their

expressions, they were thankful to turn the task over to a uniformed authority, and they weren’t the only ones.

Besides their kilts, the two men wore what had been chosen as the Mackenzie war kit, though there hadn’t been time to craft enough for everyone yet: a brigandine of two layers of green leather (salvaged from upholstery) with little steel plates riveted between, quivers and yew longbows slung across their backs, shortswords and long dirks and soup-plate bucklers at their belts, a small wicked sgian dub knife tucked into one boot-top. The plain bowl helmets with the spray of raven feathers atthe brow made them somehow seem less human and more like walking symbols.

Chuck Barstow had a spear as well as the war-harness. The prisoner would have been less surly if he knew what it portended, or that Chuck was High Priest of the Singing Moon Coven as well as second-in-command of their militia. The spear’s polished six-foot shaft was rudha-an, the same sacred rowan wood used for wands. The head was a foot-long section cut from a car’s leaf spring, ground down to a murderous double-edged blade and socketed onto the wood white-hot before it was plunged into a bath of brine and blood and certain herbs.

It had also been graven with ogham runes, the ones that had come again and again when she tossed the yew sticks of divination on the symbol-marked cloth of the Brí atharogam. Just two:

Ú ath, terror.

Whose kenning was bá nad gnú ise, the blanching of faces. For horror and fear and the Hounds of Anwyn.

Gé tal, death.

Whose meaning was tosach n-é chto, called the beginning of slaying. For the taking of life and for sacrifice.

Juniper took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for an instant to make herself believe she was truly here and not imagining it. The dull heat she had felt before came back, manyfold, as if the soil beneath her feet was throbbing with rage.

“Bring him before me. ”

Her own voice startled her, though casting her trained soprano to carry was second nature for a professional singer. Now it was somehow like the metal on the edge of a knife.

“You heard Lady Juniper, gobshite, ” Sam said, just barely loud enough for her to catch.

The hand he rested on the man’s shoulder to move him forward might have looked friendly, from any distance. Juniper could see the wrist and scarred, corded forearm flex, and the prisoner’s eyes went wide for an instant as it clamped with crushing precision. Sam had been born and raised on a small English farm; his trade had been a peculiar type of soldiering for half his forty-two years, before chance or the Weavers left him trapped and injured in the woods near her home just after the Change.

His hobby had been making and using the longbow of his ancestors. He was stocky and of middle height, but those thick spade-shaped hands could crack walnuts between thumb and two fingers. And

she happened to know that he hated men like this with a pure and deadly passion.

Chuck Barstow looked grimmer; he’d been a Society fighter and a gardener besides a member of the Singing Moon, not a real warrior by trade, though everyone had seen death and battle in the last eighteen months. But he was equally determined as he paced forward to keep the prisoner bracketed. From the way his eyes were fixed and showed white around the blue, he was feeling something too, besides the gravity of the moment, and not enjoying it.

Judy Barstow was at the far right of the table next to a woman who sat tensely upright; her white face frightened and her eyes carefully not focused.

Our prime exhibit, thought Juniper. Even if I just nursed Rudy, my breasts ache. But why is it so hard to breathe?

Eilir had moved to sit at the smaller, shorter table, set in an L to the larger one. She turned and her fingers flew. Shall I find some cold tea for you?

Yes, thanks.

She drank the lukewarm chamomile thirstily as her daughter pulled a fresh book out of her saddlebags. Ice in summer was a memory, and a possibility someday when they had time for icehouses, but you could get a little coolness by using coarse porcelain.

The book was covered in black leather, carefully tooled with the words:

The Legal Proceedings of Clan Mackenzie, Second Year of the Change.

And below that:

Capital Crimes.

Eilir opened it to a fresh page, pulled out an ink bottle and a steel-nibbed pen that had come out of retirement in an antiques store in Sutterdown. Nobody thought it odd that a fourteen-year-old was acting as court clerk. Standards had changed.

The first pages of the book contained the rituals they had come up with last night, after they had hashed out the legal and moral basis for judging the case. The first pages of the book covered all that, written in Eilir’s neat print.

Juniper looked over to the Dun Carson witnesses sitting in the southeast quadrant. Everybody was still, the sensation of their focused attention like and unlike a performance.

“I have been called here to listen to the Dun’s judgment against Billy Peers Mackenzie …”

“Hey! ” the man yelled. “I ain’t never said nothing about Mackenzie. That was you-all. I’m William Robert Peers. ”

Juniper hesitated and then turned her head.

“I will only say this once, Mr. Peers. You will keep your mouth closed until I give you leave to speak. If you speak out of turn again, your guards will gag you. Gags are very uncomfortable. I advise you to be quiet. ”

“But you can’t do that! It isn’t legal! ”

Sam’s hand moved once, and the man stopped with his mouth gaping open. He reached into his sporran, pulled out the gag and shoved it into the man’s mouth with matter-of-fact competence, checking carefully to make sure that his tongue lay flat and that it wasn’t so large as to stop him from swallowing. The rags wrapped around the wooden core had been steeped in chamomile and fennel seed tea and dried so that it wouldn’t taste too foul. Straps around the head held it in place without cutting at the corners of his mouth. He struggled, though it was as ineffectual as a puppy in a man’s hands.

“I said I would speak only once. All of you, take heed. If I state a consequence will follow, it will follow. Second chances belong to the times before the Change, when we were rich enough to waste time arguing. You have one minute to stand quiet. ”

A glance at her watch.

She gazed dispassionately at the struggling man trying to spit the carefully constructed gag out of his mouth. Then she began to count the measured seconds out loud. After the tenth second passed, it caught Peers’ attention. At the twentieth second, he stopped struggling.

“Better. If you cause any further disruption, you will be knocked unconscious. I have no time to waste now, in the midst of harvest. ”

Peers jerked, started to struggle again, saw a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye as Sam raised a hand stiffened into a blade, flinched and subsided. Juniper waited and then turned again to the north leg of the crossroads. She lifted her arms, and Judy placed her staff in her hands; it had the Triple Moon—waxing and full and waning—above two raven heads of silver, and the shaft was also of mountain rowan.

“I have been called here by the Ó enach of Dun Carson and by the Ollam of Dun Carson; Sharon Carson, Hearthmistress, Cynthia Carson, Priestess and First Armsman of Dun Carson, Ray Carson, Second Armsman and Herd Lord in Training, and Brian Carson, Herd and Harvest Lord, pro-tem, and his wife, Rebekah Carson, the tanner.

“I am Juniper Mackenzie, Chief of the Clan Mackenzie. I am Ollam Brithem, high judge over our people. ”

Juniper winced at the power she was claiming. But I am needed as chief, and so I must take thisburden on. Threes; everything in threes. Continue, woman, get this over.

“I am called here, by Ó enach, Ollam, and the Gods to hear, to judge, and to speak. Does any deny my right, my obligation, or my calling? Speak now or hold your tongue thereafter, for this place and time is consecrated by our gathering. All we do here is holy—and legal. ”

Distantly, she was aware that Peers tried to struggle again and quickly subsided as Sam gripped the back of his neck.

A long silence and she continued, face raised to the sun, eyes closed against its burning light: “Let us be blessed! ”

“Manawyddan—Restless Sea, wash over me. ”

A green branch sprinkled salt water over her. She tasted the salt on her lips like tears. Four Priestesses came with green branches, each trailed by a child holding a bowl of salt water. Each cleansed the people in one of the quarters; the last pair assiduously cleansed the empty northeastern quarter.

“Manawyddan—Restless Sea! Cleanse and purify me! I make myself a vessel; to listen and to hear. ”

“Rhiannon—White Mare, stand by me, run with me, carry me! That the land and I can be one, with Earth’s wisdom. ”

She bent and took a pinch of the dry dust from the road and sprinkled it in front of her. There was a long ripple as the Dun Carson people did the same, and the witnesses.

“Rhiannon—White Mare, ground me. ”

“Arianrhod—Star-tressed Lady; dance through our hearts, our minds, and through our eyes, bring Your light to us. ”

She took a torch from Eilir and lit it; the resinous wood flared up. Eilir took it to the four corners of the crossroads and lit each torch.

“Arianrhod—Star-tressed Lady; Bring Your light to me, to us, to the world.

“Sea and Land and Sky, I call on you: “Hear and hold and witness thus, “All that we say

“All that we agree

“All that we together do.

“Honor to our Gods! May they hold “Our oaths

“Our truths. ”

Then she spoke formally: “Let all here act with truth, with honor and with duty, that justice, safety and protection all be served for this our Clan, and may Ogma of the Honey Tongue lend us His eloquence in pursuit of Truth. ”

“This Dun’s Ó enach is begun! By what we decide, we are bound, each soul and our people together. ”

She turned in place, looking at all the people assembled, and rapped the butt of her staff on the ground.

“I am here, we are here, the Gods are here. So mote it be! ” “So mote it be! ” the massed voices replied.

She noticed that Rebekah said the words and was glad. They weren’t actually religious and it meant she was participating in the Clan’s work, rather than standing back, claiming religious exemption. She moved over to the chair and hoisted herself up on it. She could feel Chuck move into place behind her, still holding the spear upright as a symbol of her justice.

The morning sun was pouring down on the tarps and she could feel the heat and sweat that started to trickle down her back and breasts. The kilt had been comfortable while riding down to the crossroads through the forest … now the soft wool was sticking to her legs and her kneesocks made her legs itch.

Well, I’m not the only one uncomfortable on all the levels possible.

Juniper tapped her fingers on the table and took up the gavel that Sam had crafted her yesterday evening as they hashed out procedure. She banged it once on the block of wood and spoke formally:

“We are gathered here to make a decision with regards to the matter of the sexual assault visited upon Debbie Meijer yesterday by William Robert Peers, know to us as Billy Peers Mackenzie, who denies that he has accepted the name or Clan of Mackenzie. ”

She frowned and moved her hand to stop another blow to the struggling Billy. “You will be given your time to talk at its proper place. ”

He shook his head, his eyes angry and desperate, and she pursed her lips and shook her head in her turn, pointing to the poised hand. He subsided, but his black scowl remained.

“First I am going to address the greater issue. What right have we to judge and sentence and carry out these sentences upon the members of our community and those who dwell upon our land? For more than a year, we have been hurrying from incident to incident, making it up as we go along …”

A crack of laughter interrupted her. That was a charge often leveled at pre-Change wiccans: Theyjust make up the ritual as they go along.

“But all just law is based on need and precedents and the will of the people. Not much of it is from the legal system that covered the needs of a highly urban, complex society that numbered hundreds of millions and was rich enough to spare the time for slow careful perusals of accusations and defenses.

“We no longer live in the old world of cities and bureaucracies. We live in small, closed villages where the question of guilt is frequently easily established and we have no real need of the elaborate forensic apparatus used previously to establish the beyond doubt criteria used before. ”

She met Billy’s angry eyes: “This is how we have been operating and how we will continue to operate in future, until we see a need for something different. Our methods and their success or failure were discussed and reviewed by myself and my advisors. We have reviewed the past seventeen months of work and dispute in the duns and codified the results. ”

She gestured to the book beneath Eilir’s hand: “Clan Mackenzie is a conglomeration of independent settlements that have asked for and received membership in the Clan, that we may support each other and defend each other in a world where nobody can survive alone and no single family can survive alone. These are the means we have found to live together, and live decently. Andit has worked. We are alive, where millions … hundreds of millions … almost certainly billions …have died. ”

A low murmur went through the group as she looked around, meeting their eyes. That was why so many had joined the group she’d started with a few friends and coven-members meeting at her country retreat, and taken up all its ways. It was what she’d meant that first day, when she’d told them …

“It’s a Clan we will have to be, as it was in the old days, if we’re to live at all. ”

A low approving rumble at that; the words were already folklore. Perhaps the trappings that had come along with that thought weren’t necessary, were just the by-product of that group’s obsessions and pastimes from before the Change … but the whole thing worked, and nobody was going to argue with that. Herself least of all.

Then she went on: “Salus populi suprema lex: The good of the people is the highest law. If a person lives in a Dun of the Clan, they are a member of that Dun and subject to the rules, benefits, and obligations of the group. No one compels them to remain, but if they do, it is on the group’s chosen terms. This includes the reality of work, of mutual defense, and the obligation to respect others. The Ollam and Ó enach of a Dun have every right to judge wrongdoing in their territories and by their people or towards their people.

“Who chooses the Ollam? The people of the Dun. Dun Carson was led by John and Sharon Carson Mackenzie until his death fighting the Protector’s men when they tried to take Sutterdown last year. Dun Carson is led by an Ollam of five at this time. They have collectively requested that the Chief Ollam of the Clan deliver the doom in this matter, and that it be witnessed by as many sober and credible members of the other Duns as is possible. We are here today for this purpose. ”

Two more people were taking down her words in shorthand. Juniper paced her speech to make it easier on her own scribe-daughter to read her lips.

“I will hear first from Debbie Meijer, who also resides in Dun Carson, but has not accepted the name of Mackenzie. ”

She watched as the injured woman’s eyes focused on her, as if she’d been jarred out of some inward prison that was protection as well. Everyone looked lean and fit these days, as well as weathered, but there was gentleness to her face, as well as pain; she had blue-green eyes, and brown hair caught beneath a kerchief. She shrank back for a minute and then rose at Judy’s quiet urging and

walked forward. Juniper watched her swallow and clench her teeth. She made a slight gesture and Debbie’s face contracted. She shook for an instant and then faced the Dun’s members.

“I am Debbie Meijer. I’ve lived with you at Dun Carson since … since the Protector’s men stole us from Lebanon, and I, uh, escaped. I’ve not taken the Clan or the name; I’ve been waiting for my husband, Mark, to come back. Those of you here all know that the ’tinerants have been seeking news of the people stolen from Lebanon, but not much has been heard.

“I … I’ve done my best to fit in and be useful. It’s been hard. I’ve learned and learned and learned for more than a year. I went from an independent, competent citizen to a dependent, stupid member of a farming community. ”

A wave of motion shook the Carson and Rebekah stepped forward, holding out a green branch.

“I recognize Rebekah Carson. ” Juniper smiled at Debbie and raised a hand with a gentle gesture to stay her words for a moment:

“Debbie is a good, hard worker who has struggled with the grief she feels for the loss of her husband and her family, who were all on the east coast. We have all liked and supported her. ”

Juniper hesitated, suppressing a stab of anger; that support had been sadly lacking in some respects. She’d said they were to be as a Clan, and that meant that each protected the other.

No, that needs to be said; but later. Now Debbie needs to finish.

She looked up. Peers was slouched, managing to look as insolent as a man could while gagged and standing under Sam Aylward’s hand. He turned his head, caught Debbie’s eyes, and moved his hips, slightly but unmistakably.

Juniper’s finger pointed. Sam Aylward carefully did not smile.

Crack.

Sam’s hand slapped across his face, with a sound like leather hitting a board and a speed that was deceptive because of the brisk unhurried casualness of the motion. The man’s head whipped around and he staggered. Blood showed around his lips and nose, and his eyes widened with shock.

“You will be respectful, ” Juniper said flatly. Then: “Please continue, Debbie. Tell us what happened. ”

Debbie bit her lip and met Juniper’s eyes. Her defensive posture straightened and her voice firmed up.

“Yesterday wasn’t where it started. Yesterday was where it ended. I’ve been here since August, last year. Billy Bob came in March or April …”

“April! ” somebody called from the assembly.

Debbie nodded. “It started right away. He stood in line next to me at suppertime and rubbed himself on me. Cynthia saw him do it and reamed him out in front of everybody. He said that he was only trying to be friendly, and I was a cold bitch and Cynthia a buttinsky kid. ”

Juniper felt her lips thin out; her eyes went to the Carson girl. Cynthia nodded, but didn’t speak. “After that, ” continued Debbie, “he was more careful about who’d see him. He followed me when

he could, grabbed me, and would touch me every time he could. That hip thing he just did … he’d do it every time he could when we were all together. Ray caught him at it a couple of times and told him to stop and Brian backed him up … but it just made him a bit more careful.

“He tried to … He knocked on my door … I guess it was late April, late at night. I didn’t even think about the danger; I just opened it and he shoved it open and tried to get in. It hit me in the face

and breast and hurt and I screamed and everybody poured out. He tried to say that I had invited him in, but nobody believed him.

“After that, I had to keep my door locked. In May, he tried to climb in the window and I slammed it on his fingers … After that I had to keep my window closed and just put up with the heat. Ray and Brian were pissed because he said I had slammed his fingers in a door, not the window, and he hadn’t done anything. But Tammy saw him fall that day and then they believed me. They kept him away from me by making sure he worked away from the house and I worked close. Sharon and Rebekah told me to be careful to not do anything more to excite him or provoke him. But I wasn’t doing anything. It was all him.

“Yesterday, we were harvesting and after dinner I went up to my room to change my shirt. I’m glad for the kilt. Pants would be brutal in this heat and I don’t like shorts, but I needed a lighter shirt; I was sweltering.

“He was hiding behind the door of my room and he punched me in the back and I stumbled—turned to scream and he punched me in the stomach, threw me on the floor, ripped off my panties …”

Juniper caught Judy’s eyes and she moved closer to the woman, who’d gone rigid, her voice flat, her face expressionless.

“… raped me … I couldn’t breath from the punch. Then he flipped me over and half on the bed and did it from behind and through the behind. He gagged me with my shirt and bit my breasts all over and then punched me again and left me there. Cynthia found me later. ”

“Not much later, ” said Cynthia. “When she didn’t come back down, I went upstairs. At most ten or fifteen minutes. ”

Juniper nodded and pointed at Brian. “How did he evade your watchfulness? ”

The man looked chagrined. “Well, he didn’t. He’s just such a slacker, I never thought of it. I just thought he’d gone off somewhere to have a nap. Ray wanted to go look for him, but I told him we were too busy. I shouldn’t have ignored him. ”

“Some nap! ” exclaimed Debbie, tears suddenly rolling down her flaming cheeks. Judy led her away, a careful arm around her shoulders.

Juniper nodded, feeling the anger on her face and knowing it scared Brian Carson. “Judy? ” she asked.

Judy Barstow came forward again: everyone knew she’d been a registered nurse and midwife before the Change, and in overall charge of the Clan’s health care since. She wasn’t as popular as Juniper—her brisk, no-nonsense personality was a little more abrasive—but nobody doubted her competence.

“I conducted the examination yesterday evening. Debbie has been hit. There is a bruise on her back, between the shoulder blades. There is a wound, made by a ring from the placement. She was, indeed, struck in her solar plexus. Soft belly tissue doesn’t show bruises as easily, but there are two marks similar to the ring mark on her back. By tomorrow, I believe she’ll have serious bruising on her front. I also believe there is internal damage, probably to her spleen. I hope it will heal, but for now, she’s on light duty, mostly off her feet.

“She was clearly raped, vaginally and anally. There is considerable trauma and damage to the surrounding structures as well as rips and tears from fingernails. Sperm was present in both places. ”

Juniper nodded, her stomach roiling. I wish Eilir didn’t need to hear this! Or any of the Clan’schildren. Unfortunately they all need to hear it, loud and clear.

“One last item, then, before I speak as Ollam and Brithem. Brian compiled a set of weregeld statements for Billy Bob and Debbie. ”

She looked down and made a moue at them.

“Billy Bob’s will not surprise many people. He arrived empty-handed except for a belt knife and an ax, but not hungry, on a bicycle in late April of this year, claiming to have come from Hood River where the Portland Protective Association, in the person of one Conrad Renfew … now calling himself Count Conrad Renfew … took over. He was accepted into Dun Carson. His record since then has been that of a slacker and troublemaker. Brian considers that he hasn’t actually done enough work day to day to cover his room and board. He also shorted, cheated, or went absent on sentry go twice before being removed from the sentry rolls altogether.

“I am going to send out an advisory to all the Duns. We now have intelligence about Hood River. Though the Portland Protective Association took it over, for once the people of Hood River are actually grateful to them for this. ”

That brought another murmur, this time of surprise. The PPA’s Lord Protector was, at the very least, a psychopath, though a very able and surprisingly farsighted one; his followers ranged from extremely hard men to outright thugs. But there were times when people would accept the hardest hand if it meant life and peace enough to sow and reap, and the Association was trying very hard indeed to get agriculture going again in its territories. Nor did they tolerate outlaw raiders …

If only because it’s competition, she thought mordantly, and went on:

“They had a homegrown bandit problem, a very bad one. Any Dun that took in Hood River people over the period from March through late April will need to look carefully at them. They may be the bandits themselves, the ones Renfrew didn’t hang or behead. I suspect that is the case here.

“To continue. Debbie’s weregeld sheet states that she arrived with the titles to seventy acres outside of Lebanon and another hundred acres up by Silverton. This she handed over to the Clan in November when the Kyklos asked for free title to the lands they took possession of in September. We received a large consignment of goods in return for that and several other property titles. Debbie is credited with a proportional value of that shipment. Debbie is a hard worker, very community minded, and easy to get along with. She has been learning a number of skills for our Changed world, caring for dairy cattle, butter-making and cheese-making, and sewing and preserving food as well as the standard tasks. ”

Juniper folded her hands over the papers and looked into the insolent hazel eyes of the gagged man before her.

“Before I say anything about this particular case, I have something to say that will be sent to all the Clan territories. Dun Carson failed to protect Debbie Meijer. ”

She paused, to allow Eilir to catch up and to control herself. She caught Brian and then Rebekah’s eyes. They dropped theirs and flushed with shame.

“Harassment, bullying, tormenting, destructive teasing … none of these are acceptable behaviors in a world where everybody depends on everybody else and nobody can move away. Children are taught by admonishment and example because they know no better. But adults are expected to listen and understand and conform. Chronic problems must not be allowed to fester. We of the Clan must be able to trust each other; our lives depend upon it. ”

Juniper drummed her fingers on the table and scowled into the sneering face of the gagged man. “Billy Bob brought up the legality of our actions. I will address this point first. ”

She felt an angry satisfaction to see how he hated that she spoke of him by the nicknames he’d used back when he’d arrived in Clan Mackenzie territory.

“Clan Mackenzie is a sovereign state. We are neither bound by nor follow the legal system of the old United States of America, which is utterly unsuited to this world we find ourselves in. Therefore, Mr. Peers, you are not in Kansas anymore, and we will not allow you to try legal quibbles or time-wasting efforts to negotiate yourself out of your just deserts, no, that we will not!

“Now is the time when you will speak. When I tell you to not speak anymore, you will close your mouth and not speak anymore. When I ask you a question, you will answer it directly. You will not speak other than to answer the questions I put to you until I give you leave to speak freely.

“Do you understand? ”

She saw the sly look in his eyes as he nodded and nodded herself in turn.

“Do you agree to only answer the questions put to you and to be silent when ordered? ”

The way his teeth showed reassured her that she was reading the situation well. He nodded, slowly, as if he were forcing his head to move against rigid sinews.

“The gag will be used, if necessary. Be warned that attempts to blame your victim will be met with gagging. Rape is an offense against the Goddess Herself and an insult to the Horned Lord, Her consort and lover. It is a vile mockery of the Great Rite by which They made and maintain the world and to let it go unpunished would be to risk Their anger.

“We have religious freedom here; you are being punished for your crime against Debbie Meijer, not against the Powers who make and shape the world, whatever else we mean by it. However, insulting our morals is blasphemy and will be met with severe penalties. And you … well, you are a rapist. ”

She nodded to Alex, who unstrapped the gag device. Billy Bob spit out the tongue depressor and drew in a breath … and froze as his eyes met hers. She held them until he let go of the breath and slumped slightly.

“Better, ” she approved. “Did you rape Debbie Meijer? ”

Once again he drew in a breath and met her eyes … and hesitated. “You can’t prove it! ” he challenged.

“Why not? Are you sure nobody saw you? ”

“Of course … nobody saw me. I wasn’t there! ” Juniper grimaced wryly.

Good recovery, she thought. Not going to get him on a Perry Mason.

Juniper nodded. “We do not depend on people seeing you. Proof, as you call it, is a matter of belief. Everybody in the Dun’s Ó enach believes you did what you are accused of, based on observations and tracking of movements and knowledge of who and what you are. Your guilt has been established to the satisfaction of the Dun, and I have accepted it.

“Debbie’s unsupported word and the state of her body are enough to prove to us she has been raped. Her struggle with your continual harassment is enough to condemn you in the eyes of the community. The mark of your ring on her body in three places is also very telling. Keep in mind that I was not asked to come and decide if you were guilty. That was established yesterday afternoon when you were locked up and Judy Barstow Mackenzie made her examination of Debbie. You are the man who raped her. My task is to determine what to do with you.

“In Clan Mackenzie our guiding principle is the weregeld principal, of compensation. For injury to property or failure to do your share you may be fined labor or goods for the waste you caused. For

repeated offenses, expulsion by the vote of the community.

“For injury—which can cover malicious gossip, physical assault, and damage to a persons’ property or animals—the only question is how dangerous the perpetrator is. We have a responsibility. We cannot turn a dangerous person out to the world if we reasonably believe that he or she will injure another person.

“For murder. The circumstances of the cause of death must be reviewed by a coroner appointed by the Dun’s Ollam and the decision will rest upon those findings and the conclusion with the Ollam and the Ó enach. ”

She could see that Billy Bob was relaxing. He shrugged. After a few seconds’ thought, she nodded at him. “I have reached my decision. Do you have any final words to say? ”

“Sure! ” he said, sitting up again. “Gimme my bike, load the saddlebags with enough food, and I’ll be gone north before the door hits the back wheel! ”

The members of Dun Carson stirred, anger on many faces; a few shouted wordlessly in rage or denial. Juniper let them settle down; Billy Bob started to twist, but Sam was still holding his shoulder and he could no more break that hold than he could the steel grip of a vise.

“As far as the Dun is concerned, you have not managed to work enough to justify your keep in the four months you have been here. You came with nothing but an old bike, which has been, since, broken up for repair parts. ”

“Fuck! ” yelled Billy Bob. “That was my bike and you owe me! ”

“No, ” said Juniper. “You owe the Clan four months’ room and board. Room is assessed at a pint of wheat a day and board at three pints of wheat a day. For one hundred and twenty-six days, total. This is a little more than five bushels of wheat. ”

“You’re crazy! ” he said, staring at her. “Where’m I going to get wheat? ” “From the sweat of your brow! ” said Brian, anger clotting his voice.

Billy Bob swung around but Juniper spoke; her voice diamond edged. “Stop. That is moot; infliction of injury trumps all else. ”

There was silence before she went on: “Does anybody from the Ó enach have anything to say about the potential of Billy Bob raping another woman if he is expelled? ”

One of the older children—eó ghann, she reminded herself—raised a hand. “May I speak? ” he asked. Juniper frowned as the boy’s mother reached out a hand and then drew it back.

“Yes. You have a voice, but not a vote. ”

“He … yesterday—early; and before, he used to work next to me. I tried to get changed around, but Brian said that it would hurt morale and I should be able to ignore him. But he always talked; he’d say really ugly things about Debbie. He was always talking about her. Sometimes he talked about other women, not from here, and not all from Hood River. He’d laugh and chuckle … like it was as much … fun … to talk about it to me, yelling at him to shut up, as it was to do the gross things he told me about. ”

Juniper didn’t put her head down on the table, or scream, or dance with rage. But the impulse was surely there.

“Does anybody else have a similar story? ”

She winced, and so did the Ó enach. All the raised hands were of the eó ghann and a sprinkling went up in the children’s section.

Brian’s red face went white and his arm went around Rebekah. Their thirteen-year-old daughter’s hand was waving in the air. Juniper counted.

“Failure to properly address the issue has left your children vulnerable to a rapist. And he took advantage of your carelessness. Nine eó ghann and three children have been molested, physically or verbally.

“Before I proceed, Dun Carson Ó enach, your Ollam have failed you. Do you wish to vote in a new Ollam? ”

The Ó enach seethed as people turned and spoke with each other. Cynthia and Ray stood close to their mother, all three crying. Rebekah and Brian had opened their arms for Sara, who came running to them, tears flying off her cheeks.

“You told Debbie to not make too many waves or provoke him …” Eilir turned with her pen poised and her face grim.

What a can of worms, oh mother-mine. Juniper nodded. I keep thinking we’ve understood the Change and all the little Changes. But it keeps biting us in the butt.

A man stood up, looking around at the rest of the Ó enach and twisting his cap in his hands. Nods and encouraging hand waves pushed him forward:

“I’m Josh Heathrow. I kind’a called myself a pagan before the Change. Accepting the Goddess was easy for me; but I haven’t really wanted to go for the full priesthood. Still, the Ó enach asked me to speak for all of them. And the bottom line is, we don’t think any of us could have done better. And it sucks to kick somebody out to starve … or get taken by Eaters … and that’s what it would be. But … things have changed. We’ve got to work with that, and it isn’t easy getting our heads around it.

“Once something physical actually happened, Brian did something about it; quick too. I guess we all feel that this is one of those lessons and we need to make real sure we don’t do it again. But, nobody seems to want the Carsons booted out. They’re all good folk and pretty conscientious, and this was their land, for generations. Uh, maybe the fields, you know, wouldn’t like it if we changed that. ”

He looked around and abruptly sat again. Juniper had been scanning the faces as he spoke. “There is consensus, then? ” she asked.

“Aye! ”

“Very well. Brian, you and Rebekah will have to come to the Hall. I expect that I will come here, as well. We’ll take time to examine different situations and possible strategies. Sharon, Cynthia, and Ray will spend extra hours with Judy, reviewing their soon-to-be responsibilities.

“Having done that, I pronounce the sentence. ”

“Hey! Wait! I ain’t been found guilty yet … or convicted! ”

Peer’s eyes bulged with the sudden terror of illusions pierced at last.

“Didn’t you hear me tell you I was not brought to judge your guilt? I am here to pronounce your doom. ”

Billy Bob started up, screaming obscenities and denials, and Sam forced the gag back in his mouth. A swift kick to the back of the leg put him on his knees, whooping air in and out through his nose, and the armsman gripped him by a handful of hair.

Juniper stood and raised her staff again: “Hear the word of the Ollam Brithem of Clan Mackenzie! ” Silence fell, except for the slobbering panting of the gagged man and the far-off nicker of a horse: “Dun Carson will accept two trained priestesses and a priest into the Dun to help those wounded in

their hearts by this man’s deeds. These will not be members of the Dun, but will work, as we all do.

“Debbie has six months to decide if she wishes to stay with Dun Carson, join another Dun, or lead a group north to reclaim her land near Lebanon, becoming an Ollam chief in her turn. Should she leave Dun Carson, Dun Carson shall dower her with goods equivalent to her hard work as set forward by Brian Carson in this sheet. Dun Juniper will give her support against the amount her surrender of the title to the acres in Silverton has given the Clan. Dun Carson will add a weregeld of an extra one-fifth for allowing her to suffer sexual harassment for four months, and will make formal apology. ”

Juniper stood and took the spear from Chuck. She pointed it at the prone body of Billy Bob, and the light flashed off it, flickering in the graven Ogham characters.

“This man is a mad dog. He attacks the young, and destroys the reputation of his victims as well as their honor and integrity. Expelling him will not protect us from him. He could return at any moment, hide and attack us and ours by stealth, knowing our defenses. Or he would find and prey on others. We must remove him from the circle of the world, for we are responsible. We found him in our nest, on our land, despoiling our people. Last night I and my advisors discussed the possible permutations. We have established a ritual and will deliver death through it. Let the Guardians of the Northern Gate judge him; let him make amends and come to know himself in the Land of Summer.

“Death is a dread thing and all of us have found ourselves over the past year confronted by death and the fear of death. I killed a man scant hours after the Change, saving another. But we must not let ourselves become calloused by it, nor shut it away and out of our minds. And so Dun Carson will carry out the sentence. We will not hide from ourselves what we have decided to do, nor let another bear the burden. ”

Billy kicked and tried to spasm himself upright. His scream was blurred, but he struggled until the hair began to tear out by the roots.

Sam thoughtfully backheeled him in the stomach. “Oi’d give it a rest, if Oi was you, mate. It’ll hurt more, else. ”

Chuck lifted up a pot.

“There are fifty-three marbles in this urn. Six green ones, four red ones, a black one, and forty-two blue ones. Each adult will take a marble. The six people who pick a green marble will dig the grave, six feet down, by six feet long by three feet wide. ”

He pointed to the unoccupied northeastern corner of the crossroads, where three shovels stood driven into the sod.

“The four red marbles are for the four people who will escort him to his place of execution and hold him there. The black marble is for the executioner. Everybody over sixteen will witness. Parents may allow children from fourteen to sixteen to be present.

“The youngsters are to return to the Dun, out of the sight and sound of the execution. ”

Billy Bob’s body bucked, thrashing. A stink suddenly filled the air as his bowels loosed and he fainted. Judy gestured forward some of the witnesses from the other Duns. They stripped the unconscious man, wiped him down with rags, and put an old polyester bathrobe on him, grimacing in distaste.

Sam Aylward snorted. “Oi’d have made ’im dig it ’isself, ” he observed mildly.

The pot passed around the Ó enach; some snatched at the marbles, some hesitated, some held theirs up, and others looked at it in their palm before opening their fingers. One or two sobbed with relief when their marble was blue. Gradually six people walked over to the shovels and began to lay out the

grave and dig, using tarps to heap up the soil. Four people, three men and a woman, came to stand over the prone man. Then a sound burst across the pavilion and a woman Juniper did not know walked up to the man and opened her hand. The black marble fell on his shirt.

“Fitting, ” said Brian. “She’s been trying to make us do something about the man. And threatening to do it herself. ”

Juniper grimaced. “Well, unless she’s a stone-cold killer, she’s going to learn precisely the lesson I want to teach the entire Dun and the moiety of Clan Mackenzie, about paying and punishment. ”

“Lady, ” said Brian. “Sarah’s only thirteen, but she wants to stay … and Rebekah and I think she should. ”

Juniper was reaching for Rudy, shifting her blouse and plaid so that she could nurse the cranky baby. She hesitated, focused on getting Rudy latched on; not that that generally took much, but she usually didn’t nurse him under a shawl.

What are we going to do when nursing bras fall apart? Stays … ugh!

As Rudy began to feed she met Sarah’s eyes. “Why? ” she asked simply.

The girl looked ready to cry and angry at the same time. “He … he threatened to kill me. Said … well, said he’d killed Bunny FooFoo and he’d do me just like that. ”

The girl looked sick and Juniper had to force herself to lift a brow at Brian. The heavyset man shook his head gloomily.

“You know, Lady. I wasn’t one for your religion. But it seems like I’ve got an almighty clout upside the head for being careless.

“Yeah, the rabbit was killed. I tried to tell her it was a coyote, but even I didn’t believe it and for sure she didn’t; but she didn’t fight me on it. And we really needed the rabbit; it was a French Angora and we were hoping to start a specialty wool stock with it. Sarah’s trying to breed back the traits from the kits, but it’d be a lot easier if the male was still here.

“I’m babbling. Sara needs to see he really does die. And I do too. I just wish he could die ten times. ”

Juniper shook her head, rocking the baby. “It’s easy and normal for you to feel you are punishing him. And warning others about it. But it doesn’t work that way. Think of it as culling the herd. This is a protective measure and we’re going to make it pretty much as quick as possible. ”

She shifted the baby to the other breast and looked at Sara. “I don’t want you to watch. I understand why you do, but I don’t think it is healthy. ”

She looked at Brian and then Rebekah.

“Do you have a better reason for her watching? There’s going to be no doubt that he’s dead. ”

Brian shook his head and hesitated. “You know, Lady. It says in the Bible, the wages of sin isdeath. But it’s been a long, long time since we really meant those words. We all focus on the livinggift of God. How many people are going to try to live by sacred works, like you Mackenzies do … and what’s it going to mean to justice? ”

Chuck was standing by them and he shook his head. “If you think we had true, pure, unadulterated justice in the old world …”

“No, ” said Rebekah. “It was flawed, and people got off scot-free … and we nearly let this man get off scot-free. But that doesn’t mean that the old ways were any better. The law was cruel and harsh. Did it really need to be? ”

She shook her head and then looked at her daughter. “Is that it? You’re afraid we’ll let him get off, like they let that teacher go free after Melly complained about him? ”

Sara nodded, tears in her eyes. The four adults shook their heads. Rebekah turned her daughter to the group of children.

“Go. He is going to die. And if he escapes, in that ratty tatty bathrobe of your uncle’s, I promise to tell you. ”

Sara resisted and then moved back towards the group of younger people. Rebekah was frowning and started when Brian placed a hand on her shoulder.

“What is it, love? ” he asked.

She shook her head. “A thought. One we need to talk over, later. ”

The grave-diggers climbed out of the pit and pulled the ladder after themselves, wiping brows; one stopped and looked at the sweat on his palm, as if shocked that it was the same as any other work. The rest crowded together around the hole, far enough back that they didn’t break down the fragile walls. The escorts slapped Billy Bob awake and heaved him up. He struggled, but the four held him tightly.

He was struggling too hard for them to get him down into the cool, loamy recess. Juniper walked forward to stand at the north end of the grave. When the escorts looked to her for ideas on what to do, she spread her hands.

“This is the burden the Powers have chosen for you, my friends, ” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the strangled grunts. “And it is yours. ”

They held him in the center and looked at each other. One gestured the ladder to be placed at the far end. The woman and one of the men let go and climbed down. With shocking suddenness the two men grabbed Peers by the arms and legs, swung him over the grave, and let his feet go. He dropped and the two down below grabbed him and shoved him down onto the ground; it was moist and brown-gray, with an earthworm crawling from a clod. The scent rose from the dark earth, loamy and rich. There was a sense of rightness to it.

Ropes and stakes bound his feet and arms and shoulders to the ground.

“Lady? Do we take off the gag? ” asked one of them, just as Judy came bustling up with the soiled ground cloth, clothes, and rags.

“Ask him. And ask yourselves. Do you care if he goes silenced to his death, or would you rather hear his last screams? What are you willing to live with? ”

They climbed out, all but one. “Well? ” he asked. Juniper stood, her arms aching from holding the hefty weight of the nine-month-old … and refusing to give him back to Melissa. The Ó enach murmured and shifted, whispered and rustled.

Josh Heathrow stepped forward again, carefully on the verge. He looked down and asked. “What do you want? Gag out before you are killed or shall we leave it in? ”

Juniper heard a thump. The man on the ladder gave an impatient exclamation and jumped down. “He wants it out, but it’s clear he’s going to be ugly about it, ” he called up.

“No class, ” said Chuck in a regretful sotto voice. “Nothing like the grand old tradition of English highwaymen proudly declaiming their prowess on the gibbets. ”

Juniper sighed and gently kicked him on the shin. Josh was consulting with the Ó enach and Ollam again.

Finally he leaned over. “We don’t need his curses, and we don’t need to give him any further opportunity to work harm. And we don’t need more fuel for nightmares. Leave the gag in. ”

Judy neatly dropped the bundle of dirty cloth in at the foot of the grave.

Brian stepped forward with Ray by his side, white, and shuddering, but gulping in a big breath of air as his uncle spoke.

“Ó enach and Ollam have agreed that this man did”—he looked over at Juniper for a second —“profane the Great Rite and the precious mysteries of love by raping a woman of the Dun, yesterday. His offense against the Powers is his, but it is our right to judge him for his offense against our sister. We have since learned that he also attempted to corrupt some of our children. Mad dogs must die. There is no cure that is worth the price we’d pay.

“Mairead, are you ready? ”

The woman who’d taken the black marble stepped forward. Like many, her face was white as she realized just what she was going to do.

This is not the heat of battle, when you strike out blindly in fury and in fear, Juniper thought. This is not the hot blood of a quarrel. This we do with deliberation and with ceremony. We have our doubts, but we hide them. We call upon the Powers; we say, the Law; we say, we the People; we say, the State. But what we do, we still do as human souls.

The Chief stepped forward; Chuck and she grasped the spear to hand it to the chosen one. Juniper gasped, and felt the High Priest’s hand stiffen on the rowan wood beside hers. Eilir’s head came around too, and more than one among the onlookers. The jolt she felt was still hot and angry, but it was the wound tension before the lightning strikes, and there was something else in it, a calling—

“This man was a child once, ” she said, as if the words welled up from the innermost part of her mind. “The Mother gave him being, and his mother loved him. He was given great gifts—a strong healthy body, a cunning mind, a nimble tongue, a great will to live, or he would not have survived this long. He was given a life, and such a sorry botch he has made of it for himself and for others. ”

All of them were looking at her, wire-tense and focused. Her voice rose:

“Can you not feel the anger of the Powers at what he has done, and what he has profaned? The slighting of the Mystery that They give us, for our joy and that we might join Them in bringing forth life? ”

A sound like wind through trees as the people nodded.

“Yet now we help him make atonement; and so also we appease Them with this sacrifice. But even in the anger of the Dark Mother, there is love. The Keeper of Laws is stern, but just. Beyond the Gate in the Land of Summer, Truth stands naked and he will know himself. He himself will choose how to make himself whole, and be reborn through the cauldron of Her who is Mother-of-All into the life he chooses. So mote it be! ”

“So mote it be! ”

Mairead shook as the High Priestess and High Priest solemnly handed her the spear.

“This spear was made for this purpose alone, ” Juniper said. “It is blessed and consecrated for it. ” The shaft wobbled dangerously and Sam jumped to the rescue.

“’Ere, ” said Sam. “Hold on, lass. Let me reverse it. Now, poke it over the edge. You, Danny, put it where Oi told you to. There. Now, both ’ands on the shaft … see, where I wrapped deer-hide around it so it won’t slip. One hard shove. Don’t let ’im suffer. It’s at the right angle now. It’llgointohisheart, neatandquick. Now. ”

Juniper kept her face calm by main force of effort. Have I asked too much? Should I start atradition of black-masked executioners? No! This is our justice and we need to own it.

Mairead trembled and Brian stepped to her left and Josh to her right. They set their hands on the shaft, above and below hers.

“Come, ” said Josh. “You must do it. But we’ll add our strength to yours. It’llbequick. ”

Even as Mairead gulped and tightened her hands, Sharon and Rebekah stepped forward and put hands on her shoulders. Juniper watched her close her eyes … not to block out the sight, but to feel the position of the shaft, and then she pushed, sudden and hard.

The razor-sharp head sliced into Billy Bob’s chest cavity and through his heart and the body bucked once more and was still. The man down in the grave, Sam, and Brian all thrust a little harder, getting the head fixed into the soil beneath.

And something snapped. The hot anger that had risen up from her feet was gone, with only a brief cool wind of sorrow. Then the day was merely a day once more, and there was work to be done.

Juniper thrust Rudy into Eilir’s arms and turned, took up a shovel and filled it with the grave dirt. “I cast you out, ” she said clearly, and carefully threw the dirt into the grave.

The last man climbed out, pulled by his friends. Willing hands grabbed the shovels and began to rain the dirt back into the grave.

“I castyouout. ”

“I protect the children. ” “I reject your blasphemy. ” “I protectmyself. ”

Juniper stood back. Mairead was still trembling. People came to hug her, but the mood remained somber. Juniper nodded to herself as she took back Rudy. Her hands moved in sign, small ones, restrained by the child.

Yes. This is how we own our lives.

The grave filled quickly, the long shaft poking out above the ground. Red and black ribbons were tied around it and Juniper turned north again, the hot afternoon sunshine on her left, now. Eilir reached for Rudy and she let him go.

Sharon moved to stand at her left hand, and to her surprise, not Cynthia, but Rebekah, moved over to her right.

She lifted her arms:

“Manawyddan—Restless Sea, cleanse and purify us! We have taken our actions in defense of our people. They are not actions to take lightly. Restless Sea, cleanse us!

“Rhiannon—White Mare, hold him deep in the earth, that he may have time to learn and be reborn to try again. ”

“Arianrhod—Star-tressed Lady; bring Your light to us, light of reason. Protect us from the night fears; give us eyes that we may see protect those we love before harm befalls them. ”

“This gathering of the Dun for justice is done. We have met in sorrow, debated in pain, and leave with resolution. So mote it be! ”

“So mote it be! ” called the Ó enach as they picked up their boxes and baskets, pulled down the tarps, and offered hospitality to the neighbors.

Juniper nodded in approval when the witnesses all made namaste, and refused quiet words of support and offers of help shared forth before they left to seek their own homes and the labor that

would not, could not, wait.

“Lady, what should we do now? ” asked Cynthia Carson.

“Keep a wake, I think, ” said Juniper. “You’ll have to play this by ear. But I think the next day or two should be focusing on doing all the small tasks. You are all upset, and it’s easier for you to make mistakes. ”

Brian and Ray and Sharon nodded. They picked up the bundles of tarps the others had left behind and trudged back to the Dun.

Juniper sighed. “And it’s home for us, too, now. We may reach there before the sunset, we may indeed. ”

She rubbed her forehead fretfully. “I wish we hadn’t needed to deal with something this grotesque for our first foray into a capital crime. ”

Sam shrugged, holding Melissa close. “If not this, then something else, Lady. Whatever it was, it would have felt loik the worst thing to us. ”

Juniper sighed and shrugged. I want to be home and with my loved ones. I thinkwe’llbewakingthenighttoo.