Rip was off to the right and a little ahead of her, uselessly creeping from bush to bush in the bit of scrubby pasture-cum-orchard to the right of the path. He knew she was aware of him.
He could sense her just as clearly as she could sense him. Sometimes she thought he was better at it. Lorrie didn’t call out to him because she needed time to think of some way of getting rid of him.
At last the stand of currant bushes ended and he leapt out with a cry of, ‘HAH!’ His hands raised over his head and curved into claws.
Lorrie raised an eyebrow in his direction and marched on without comment.
After a short pause he skipped up beside her.
‘Can I come?’ he asked, bouncing up and down in excitement.
‘You want to help me clean flax?’ she asked dubiously.
Rip laughed and Lorrie frowned. He knew, he always knew when she was up to something.
‘It’s messy and smelly,’ she warned.
‘You’re going hunting!’ he accused, then covered his mouth to hide his grin.
‘What makes you think that?’
Rip rolled his eyes at her elaborately casual attitude, put his hands on his hips and gave her a look of such adult condescension that she had to smile. ‘You promised you’d teach me to hunt and track,’ he said. ‘You said you would.’
She nodded, feeling rather sad. ‘I know. And if I can talk Daddy around I still mean to.’ She stopped walking and looked at him. ‘I really do mean to, Rip. Honest.’
Looking down, he scuffed the earth with his bare foot. ‘I know,’ he muttered. ‘But if this is the last time you can go . . .’ He looked up at her from under his eyelashes. For an instant she realized what a beautiful boy he was, and he knew it. He had used those long lashes more than once to wheedle his way with his father and mother.
She gave him a small smile. ‘It’s up to Daddy.’ She shrugged. ‘If I took you today then we’d both get punished.’
He considered that, still scuffing his foot back and forth.
Lorrie watched him sympathetically. ‘When Bram gets back from his uncle’s in Land’s End I’ll ask him to take you. Hey,’ she gently punched his shoulder, ‘maybe that way I’ll be able to go, too.’
He rubbed his shoulder and smiled ruefully. ‘That’s all right,’ he said.
‘Then that’s what we’ll try to do,’ Lorrie said positively. ‘But it would be a bad idea today.’
Rip nodded wisely. ‘Yeah. You’re gonna get it.’ He thought about this, then added, ‘You’re really gonna get it.’ He looked at her, his expression somewhere between awe and doubt.
Lorrie saw the moment his mind turned to making the situation work for him by the slight change in his expression and headed him off. ‘If you tell on me I’ll tell Bram not to take you, ever. And you know he’ll listen to me.’
Rip’s brow furrowed and he gave her a considering look. Lorrie folded her arms and looked back, one eyebrow raised. He tried, unsuccessfully, to imitate that and gave up after a moment with a frustrated hiss.
‘All right,’ he muttered resentfully. ‘But if Mummy asks me where you are I won’t lie.’
‘Of course not,’ Lorrie said, picking up the rake and the tarp. ‘Tell her the truth, tell her that you don’t know where I am. Which you won’t.’ She grinned and ruffled her brother’s hair to his considerable annoyance. ‘You won’t be sorry, Rip. I promise.’
He snorted and after a moment turned and walked away. Lorrie smiled at his back and headed off toward the pond and, just coincidentally, the beckoning woods beyond, humming a dancing tune.
Rip was confused and a little angry. Why couldn’t Lorrie go hunting any more? And if she really couldn’t, then why couldn’t she wait to stop hunting until after she’d taught him everything she knew? And what was it that boys would want and make Lorrie give them? Her hunting knife? Rip craved Lorrie’s hunting knife. It had a deerhorn haft and a seven-inch steel blade that took an edge so sharp there was nothing in the world it couldn’t cut.
Some day it would probably be his, but not yet. If Lorrie was too old to do certain things then he was still ‘too young’. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction his sister had been walking. He hoped she’d be all right. Mummy had sounded like she really was worried about her. Even about Bram.
Why would she worry about Bram? Rip wondered. Bram was the best person ever. And he liked Lorrie, you could tell. Rip shook his head. Grown-ups worried about all manner of things that he didn’t understand. And asking questions just made things worse mostly.
With a sigh, Rip looked around. He’d done his morning chores so he was free to play until lunch time. I’m a warrior! he decided and galloped off on an imaginary horse to slay the invaders from the other world. He swept up a likely stick and waved it with a flourish.
‘Ah ha! Villains! Attack my castle will you?’
And the battle to save the Kingdom began.