Charlotte Clutterbuck

All morning, Bhòid ran towards a headland that rose in the distance like a massive sea lion. After the endless stretches of gorse and machair and low headlands, he was nearing a rocky stronghold where there might be flint, or shelter, or both.

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Intriguing!

Leukos heard a shout below him and a hound baying, and saw the men start up the hill after him. They were fresh and fast, and even though he dodged round rocks and leapt over streams, he couldn’t shake off the dogs and men who pursued him.

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‘Sulaire?’ asked Ruad.
‘I’ve started his healing. He’s one of us now.’
‘It’s not safe,’ Ruad countered. ‘You’ve saved his life but that doesn’t give him a right to be one of us. We must hear his story first and then decide if he can stay.’

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Aren't they stunning! We have them here too!

Most of those hunters would remember the night in Bhòid's twelfth summer when he’d been branded and the day when he’d run for his life with them after him. They’d never see him as a free man, coming into the village alone in his tattered tunic.

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Cliste grinned: ‘Ruad’s welcome to go back through the forest by himself, taking meat to the women.’
Bhòid smothered a smile as Ruad stared at the dark forest where the ghosts that had left four of them alone might well attack one on his own.

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Great to see such large numbers.

The wind sharpened as the Gannets walked. Cold rain stung their backs, and the track grew slick with mud. Carrying baskets of nuts, with Daltae and Balach strapped to their backs, Tren and Ailgen slithered and slid and sometimes sat down hard.

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‘I’ll not be telling you what to do,’ Bhòid said. ‘We’ll decide together round the fire as we’ve always done. Except when…’ He paused––facing the knowledge and fear of things to come. ‘Except when it’s something that only one must choose.’

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They are extraordinary. We don't have them in Australia.

Highlight? Maybe the finest tribute gift? Narwhal horn?

Volpo unwrapped his bundle, and held up a long staff. It was not wood, but bone, spiralling to a point. Its haft carved––far beyond anything Leukos could do––into a snarling bear’s head.

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'Let Ruad be with the women tonight,' Bhòid thought. 'Let him have a moment of belonging––my blood brother, who had neither father nor mother nor sister when he was small, who has such a loneliness in his heart.'

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Good rhythm Scott!

Fowls are much more fun than political fouls.

In the stone-age intuition was science?

Sulaire had never seen a wound like this. She held the dog’s torn belly until her mind shifted like clouds parting. She peered at the wound: the blood was from his torn hide. His entrails seemed whole.

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But here in Australia the mallards WILL mate with the Pacific Black Ducks!
All the same, he is handsome!

‘My Lord, Mathan, we have another gift.’

Sulaire raised her hand with a flourish, the biggest water-stone held between thumb and finger. It caught the light of the lowering sun and the Chieftain's gaze was drawn towards its golden glint.

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It was Fonn's first time kayaking on open wate, and Sulaire saw the joy on his thin, blind face. As his sister Gaire chirped and called and sang the stroke behind him, he dug his paddle deeper and the boat surged over the billows past Sulaire's.
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that's fun writing.

‘I killed the elk,’ Ruad said hotly.
‘You killed him? By yourself?’ Sulaire demanded.
He dropped his gaze. ‘The others helped corner him. I killed him with my axe.’
‘And you’re angry with me for taking risks!’
‘I wanted to bring you meat.’

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I hope you have plenty of them! Here in Davistown I'm not seeing as many bar-tailed godwits as I should! 23 at a time in earlier years. Max 14 this year. But mostly only 4-7

Sulaire sketched the Sky Gannet on the sand––three stars for the head; the brightest one for the eye, two fainter triangles for the outstretched wings. Then she deepened the four holes that marked the head and neck––four marks for their symbol.

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No lasers: only looks that kill.

The Priestess’s eyes swept over Bhòid, as if he was a fleck of the dust he knelt in, and settled on Sulaire, cold as an icicle. Two red, moon-shaped birthmarks showed on her brow.

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Joyous!

‘This stone is very rare, sometimes found in rivers. Put it in the fire and it will never blacken. If you beat it with a rock, it does not shatter. The greatest chiefs across the water wear it. Truly, a great gift for this year’s Gathering.’

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That's some powerful speech! Sock it to 'em!

13 authors who will read in New York on Saturday morning. I'm in the bottom right-hand corner, in my happy place on the Island of Bute, the setting for 'Twin Stars'.

I'm heading (virtually speaking) for the Big Apple very early on Saturday morning to read from 'Twin Stars' in the International Open Mike.

charlotteclutterbuck.com

Sulaire grew paler, and Bhòid knew her leg was hurting badly. Mid-morning, they cowered under a bank that gave little shelter from the rain. When they moved on Sulaire seemed even weaker. On a stretch of sloping track, she slipped and fell.

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Very energetic!