capable of holding responsible positions, but they could be Sun-worthy and avoid the Sunless Pit if they worked hard at collecting the sacred metal.
Crag didn’t meet any squirrels as he passed through the Deepend Guardianship, but on nearing Steepbank he stopped and watched. There were squirrels, red ones like himself, playing and sporting in the branches. That strange feeling, for which he had no name, was spreading out and trying to affect even him. He tensed his muscles to resist it. Were these degenerate ones always misbehaving?
Looking for Chip, he saw him following that squirrabel who had decoyed him from his home and duties, and a disturbing thought struck him. Could they have mated?
They were of different years, but that was no physical barrier. It would be awful if they had. However much one tried not to enjoy THAT, it did create a bond and it would be that much harder to get his son back. Sun forbid that he had mated with a Blasphemer.
Crag thought of the Portland ‘Bill’, decreed by his grandfather, which clearly stated that the mating act was to take place only once each year and was not to be enjoyed. His great-grandfather had also, in the Bill, decreed that there was to be no frivolity, none of the traditional chasing and courting. The act must be done coldly and soberly, as befits true believers and collectors.
He, Crag, had kept to the Bill, but had to admit that it was hard not to enjoy mating, even with a dry old stick like Rusty. Evidently other Portland squirrels hadn’t acted correctly and that was why the Sun had punished them with no offspring.
He approached the playful party and was seen by Chip, who moved closer to Tansy, who had reluctantly joined in when she could see that Marguerite would need time to organise a rescue party. Even so, to her the joviality seemed wrong and out of place.
Alder the Leader went along the branch to greet the squirrel stranger who had come to join them on this happy day.
‘Greetings, stranger, I am Alder the Leader, selected Senior Squirrel in this our Demesne of the Blue Pool. I welcome you to our Midwinter Celebrations. He waited for the formal reply.
Crag scowled at the squirrels all about him.
‘I am Crag, father of that idler,’ he said, pointing to Chip, who was cowering on a branch beside Tansy,’ and I have come to take him back with me.’
Alder stared at Crag and was silent in the face of this discourtesy. He had made allowances when the foreign Greys did not know of the correct greetings and customs, but this was a Red like himself, who ought to know the routines!
All the other squirrels looked on in silence until Marguerite said, ‘Stranger, your attitude puzzles and offends us. We have offered you our hospitality, yet you ignore this and insult your own youngster. If Chip wishes to leave with you, that is his right, now he is of age, but I for one would not blame him if he didn’t.’ She flicked her tail to show contempt for his lack of manners and quoted the Kernel –
‘After Longest Night
Last year’s youngsters can decide
Their own destinies.’
Crag ignored her, ‘Come,’ he ordered, glowering at Chip, who was still crouching at Tansy’s side. She put a paw on his shoulder. He started to obey his father but, feeling the pressure from Tansy’s paw increase, replied, ‘I choose to stay.’
Crag moved forward, then stopped and turned to go. He called back, ‘It’s the Sunless Pit for you, and the rest of you. For ever!’ His grand exit was spoilt by his missing a paw-hold in his anger and having to drop to a lower branch.
Moving from tree to tree in as dignified a way as he could, back towards the North-east Wood and the Temple Tree, he felt a resurgence of the squirrelation overtake him and, out of sight of the others, he paused irresolutely. There can be no harm in watching what they are up to, he told himself, an old saying of his grandfather’s rising to
Crag didn’t meet any squirrels as he passed through the Deepend Guardianship, but on nearing Steepbank he stopped and watched. There were squirrels, red ones like himself, playing and sporting in the branches. That strange feeling, for which he had no name, was spreading out and trying to affect even him. He tensed his muscles to resist it. Were these degenerate ones always misbehaving?
Looking for Chip, he saw him following that squirrabel who had decoyed him from his home and duties, and a disturbing thought struck him. Could they have mated?
They were of different years, but that was no physical barrier. It would be awful if they had. However much one tried not to enjoy THAT, it did create a bond and it would be that much harder to get his son back. Sun forbid that he had mated with a Blasphemer.
Crag thought of the Portland ‘Bill’, decreed by his grandfather, which clearly stated that the mating act was to take place only once each year and was not to be enjoyed. His great-grandfather had also, in the Bill, decreed that there was to be no frivolity, none of the traditional chasing and courting. The act must be done coldly and soberly, as befits true believers and collectors.
He, Crag, had kept to the Bill, but had to admit that it was hard not to enjoy mating, even with a dry old stick like Rusty. Evidently other Portland squirrels hadn’t acted correctly and that was why the Sun had punished them with no offspring.
He approached the playful party and was seen by Chip, who moved closer to Tansy, who had reluctantly joined in when she could see that Marguerite would need time to organise a rescue party. Even so, to her the joviality seemed wrong and out of place.
Alder the Leader went along the branch to greet the squirrel stranger who had come to join them on this happy day.
‘Greetings, stranger, I am Alder the Leader, selected Senior Squirrel in this our Demesne of the Blue Pool. I welcome you to our Midwinter Celebrations. He waited for the formal reply.
Crag scowled at the squirrels all about him.
‘I am Crag, father of that idler,’ he said, pointing to Chip, who was cowering on a branch beside Tansy,’ and I have come to take him back with me.’
Alder stared at Crag and was silent in the face of this discourtesy. He had made allowances when the foreign Greys did not know of the correct greetings and customs, but this was a Red like himself, who ought to know the routines!
All the other squirrels looked on in silence until Marguerite said, ‘Stranger, your attitude puzzles and offends us. We have offered you our hospitality, yet you ignore this and insult your own youngster. If Chip wishes to leave with you, that is his right, now he is of age, but I for one would not blame him if he didn’t.’ She flicked her tail to show contempt for his lack of manners and quoted the Kernel –
‘After Longest Night
Last year’s youngsters can decide
Their own destinies.’
Crag ignored her, ‘Come,’ he ordered, glowering at Chip, who was still crouching at Tansy’s side. She put a paw on his shoulder. He started to obey his father but, feeling the pressure from Tansy’s paw increase, replied, ‘I choose to stay.’
Crag moved forward, then stopped and turned to go. He called back, ‘It’s the Sunless Pit for you, and the rest of you. For ever!’ His grand exit was spoilt by his missing a paw-hold in his anger and having to drop to a lower branch.
Moving from tree to tree in as dignified a way as he could, back towards the North-east Wood and the Temple Tree, he felt a resurgence of the squirrelation overtake him and, out of sight of the others, he paused irresolutely. There can be no harm in watching what they are up to, he told himself, an old saying of his grandfather’s rising to
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