The Wee Free Men

comp-li-cat-ed than that, mistress. They’re, er, discussin’ ye…”
    “Discussing what about me?”
    Not-as-big-as-Medium-Sized-Jock-but-bigger-than-Wee-Jock-Jock looked as if he really didn’t want to be standing there.
    “Um, they’re discussing…er…they…”
    Tiffany gave up. The pictsie was blushing. Since he was blue to begin with, this turned him an unpleasant violet color. “I’ll go back down the hole. Give my boots a push, will you, please?”
    She slid down the dry dirt, and Feegles scattered in the cave below as she landed.
    When her eyes got accustomed to the gloom once more, she saw that the galleries were crowded with pictsies again. Some of them were in the middle of washing, and many of them had, for some reason, smoothed down their red hair with grease. They all stared at her as if caught in the act of something dreadful.
    “We ought to be going if we’re to follow the Queen,” she said, looking down at Rob Anybody, who’d been washing his face in a basin made of half a walnut shell. Water dripped off his beard, which he’d braided up. There were three braids in his long hair now too. If he turned suddenly, he could probably whip somebody to death.
    “Ach, weel,” he said, “there’s a wee matter we got tae sort oout, kelda.” He twiddled the tiny washcloth in his hands. When Rob Anybody twiddled, he was worried.
    “Yes?” said Tiffany.
    “Er…will ye no ha’ a cup o’ tea?” said Rob Anybody, and a pictsie staggered forward with a big gold cup that must have been made for a king.
    Tiffany took it. She was thirsty, after all. There was a sigh from the crowd when she sipped the tea. It was actually quite good.
    “We stole a bag o’ it fra’ a peddler who was asleep down by the high road,” said Rob Anybody. “Good stuff, eh?” He patted down his hair with his wet hands.
    Tiffany’s cup stopped halfway to her lips. Perhaps the pictsies didn’t realize how loudly they whispered, because her ear was on a level with a conversation.
    “Ach, she’s a bit on the big side, no offense to her.”
    “Aye, but a kelda has to be big, ye ken, to have lots of wee babbies.”
    “Aye, fair enough, big wimmin is a’ very well, but if a laddie was tae try tae cuddle this one, he’d have tae leave a chalk mark to show where he left off yesterday.”
    “An’ she’s a bit young.”
    “She needna have any babbies yet, then. Or mebbe not too many at a time, say. Nae more than ten, mebbe.”
    “Crivens, lads, what’re ye talkin’ aboout? ’Tis Rob Anybody she’ll choose anyway. Ye can see the big man’s poor wee knees knocking fra’ here!”
    Tiffany lived on a farm. Any little beliefs that babies are delivered by storks or found under bushes tend to get sorted out early on if you live on a farm, especially when a cow is having a difficult calving in the middle of the night. And she’d helped with the lambing, when small hands could be very useful in difficult cases. She knew all about the bags of red chalk the rams had strapped to their chests, and why you knew later on that the ewes with the red smudges on their backs were going to be mothers in the spring. It’s amazing what a child who is quiet and observant can learn, and this includes things people don’t think she is old enough to know.
    Her eye spotted Fion, on the other side of the hall. She was smiling, in a worrying way.
    “What’s happening, Rob Anybody?” she said, laying the words down carefully.
    “Ah, weel…it’s the clan rules, ye ken,” said the Feegle awkwardly. “Ye being the new kelda an’, an’, weel, we’re bound to ask ye, see, nae matter what we feel, we gotta ask ye mutter mutter mutter…” He stepped back quickly.
    “I didn’t quite catch that,” said Tiffany.
    “We’ve scrubbed up nice, ye ken,” Rob Anybody said. “Some o’ the lads actually had a bath in the dewpond, e’en though ’tis only May, and Big Yan washed under his arms for the first time ever, and Daft Wullie has picked ye a bonny bunch of flowers…”
    Daft Wullie stepped forward, swollen with nervous pride, and thrust the aforesaid bouquet into the air. They probably had been nice flowers, but he didn’t have much idea of what a bunch was or how you picked one. Stems and leaves and dropping petals stuck out of his fist in all directions.
    “Very nice,” said Tiffany, taking another sip of the tea.
    “Guid, guid,” said Rob Anybody, wiping his forehead. “So mebbe you’d like tae tell us mutter