The Wee Free Men

burst out. “It’d take millions of years for the bird to—”
    “She said aye!” Rob Anybody shouted. “Ye a’ heard her, lads! An’ she’s named the day! That’s the rules!”
    “Nae problem aboot the mountain, neither,” said Daft Wullie, still holding out the flowers. “Just ye tell us where it is and I reckon we could ha’ it doon a lot faster than any wee burdie—”
    “It’s got to be the bird!” yelled Rob Anybody desperately. “Okay? The wee burdie! Nae more arguin’! Anyone feelin’ like arguin’ will feel ma boot! Some o’ us ha’ got a wee laddie to steal back fra’ the Quin!” He drew his sword and waved it in the air. “Who’s coming wi’ me?”
    That seemed to work. The Nac Mac Feegle liked clear goals. Hundreds of swords and battleaxes, and one bunch of battered flowers in the case of Daft Wullie, were thrust into the air, and the war cry of the Nac Mac Feegle echoed around the chamber. The period of time it takes a pictsie to go from normal to mad fighting mood is so tiny, it can’t be measured on the smallest clock.
    Unfortunately, since the pictsies were very individualistic, each one had his own cry and Tiffany could only make out a few over the din:
    “They can tak’ oour lives but they canna tak’ oour troousers!”
    “Ye’ll tak’ the high road an’ I’ll tak’ yer wallet!”
    “There can only be one t’ousand!”
    “Ach, stick it up yer trakkans!”
    But the voices gradually came together in one roar that shook the walls:
    “Nae King! Nae Quin! Nae laird! Nae master! We willna be fooled again!”
    This died away, a cloud of dust dropped from the roof, and there was silence.
    “Let’s gae!” cried Rob Anybody.
    As one Feegle, the pictsies swarmed down the galleries and across the floor and up the slope to the hole. In a few seconds the chamber was empty, except for the gonnagle and Fion.
    “Where have they gone?” said Tiffany.
    “Ach, they just go,” said Fion, shrugging. “I’m going tae stay here and look after the fire. Someone ought to act like a proper kelda.” She glared at Tiffany.
    “I do hope you find a clan for yourself soon, Fion,” said Tiffany sweetly. The pictsie scowled at her.
    “They’ll run arroond for a while, mebbe stun a few bunnies and fall over a few times,” said William. “They’ll slow down when they find oout they don’t ken what they’re supposed to do yet.”
    “Do they always just run off like this?” said Tiffany.
    “Ach, well, Rob Anybody disna want too much talk about marryin’,” said William, grinning.
    “Yes, we have a lot in common in that respect,” said Tiffany.
    She pulled herself out of the hole and found the toad waiting for her.
    “I listened in,” he said. “Well done. Very clever. Very diplomatic.”
    Tiffany looked around. There were a few hours to sunset, but the shadows were already lengthening.
    “We’d better be going,” she said, tying on her apron. “And you’re coming, toad.”
    “Well, I don’t know much about how to get into—” the toad began, trying to back away. But toads can’t back up easily, and Tiffany grabbed him and put him in her apron pocket.
    She headed for the mounds and stones. My brother will never grow up, she thought, as she ran across the turf. That’s what the old lady said. How does that work? What kind of a place is it where you never grow up?
    The mounds got nearer. She saw William and Not-as-big-as-Medium-Sized-Jock-but-bigger-than-Wee-Jock-Jock running along beside her, but there was no sign of the rest of the Nac Mac Feegle.
    And then she was among the mounds. Her sisters had told her that there were more dead kings buried under there, but it had never frightened her. Nothing on the downs had ever frightened her.
    But it was cold here. She’d never noticed that before.
    Find a place where the time doesn’t fit . Well, the mounds were history. So were the old stones. Did they fit here? Well, yes, they belonged to the past, but they’d ridden on the hills for thousands of years. They’d grown old here. They were part of the landscape.
    The low sun made the shadows lengthen. That was when the Chalk revealed its secrets. At some places, when the light was right, you could see the edges of old fields and tracks. The shadows showed up what brilliant noonlight couldn’t see.
    Tiffany had made up noonlight .
    She couldn’t even see hoof prints. She wandered around the trilithons, which looked a bit like huge stone doorways, but even