The next day a mixed band of the Tarvan Bluff Guardians and Great Wood soldiers made their back down the bluff to where the main body of the army from First Warren waited. Helmer was at the point once again, this time with Sigrid walking beside him. She was dressed for battle, but carried an undented helmet hanging from her belt. In spite of the burden, and her other weighty gear, she moved with ease and grace. The black buck couldn’t help but admire how comfortable she seemed, so unlike any doe he had known growing up.

Drawing his knife, Helmer began twirling it, a habit he’d picked up in basic training. Whenever they were on a stretch of ground that was level and easy, he tossed it spinning into the air. Catching it speedily, he would repeat the action. He’d been doing so for a while when he noticed Sigrid eying him with amusement.

“You is feeling nervous, Helmer?”

“…maybe a little,” he admitted with a shrug. Catching his knife again, he returned it to its sheath. “My first instructor had a saying: ‘War is a splash of terror in a sea of boredom.’ I started playing with my knife like that some time after he first said that to me. A way of keeping my hands busy and my wits sharp.”

Sigrid nodded, the smile falling. “A wise habit, it is being. We Guardians, and the other clans, is patrolling these ways often. But the northwolves and rabbittraitors is being darkcunning.

“Nervous I am feeling also, Helmer. I am being grateful for your invitation. But to be meeting your king…I am not knowing how to be feeling. Long is it being since we rabbits of Tarvan Bluff are being under the ruling of a king.

“Before the splitting of our clans, our lords were sending messengers to First Warren. But they were always being returning without reaching it. That was being if they were coming back at all. Yet we is never being forgetting of the kings.”

In spite of their nerves, the party met no enemies or traps as they descended to the foot of the bluff. A small but thick forest lay a short distance from it. This had provided concealment for the majority of King Jupiter’s army, preventing the Guardians from learning of their arrival until Captain Stam’s scouting party had been spotted. Now, as Helmer’s party approached the trees, a number of sentries appeared to meet them.

Helmer noted with amusement that the sentries were all wearing expressions that showed varying degrees of astonishment. Now that the newcomers were close enough, they could see Sigrid and the other does among the unfamiliar rabbits. He glanced around until he spotted one he knew by name. The large young buck, a white-furred recruit from Black Lake, appeared particularly dumbfounded.

“You there! Truff! You can let your jaw hang slack on your own time! Take us to the king, and be quick about it!”

With a flush, the white rabbit shut his mouth, saluted, and spun about. Helmer and Sigrid led their rabbits after him. The further they went into the woods, the more signs of habitation became visible. Other rabbits looked up from tasks or emerged from tents as they passed.

As they approached a clearing, they heard a loud clacking noise. Helmer soon recognized it as wood striking wood. Evidently the clearing was being used as a temporary training ground. Truff led them right out into it, and he soon saw why.

Two brown-furred rabbits were sparring with wooden swords. Both were obviously skilled. They wore plain clothes, and one had an eyepatch over one eye. Only the size of the crowd of watching rabbits gave evidence that this was no contest between common soldiers.

Noticing the new arrivals, the rabbit with two eyes raised his hand. His opponent ceased his attack, and both of them lowered the training weapons. An attendant came to receive these, handing each combatant a towel in exchange. While the patch wearing rabbit remained where he was, the other came forward, drying his hands and face quickly as he came.

“Lieutenant Helmer! Welcome back! I see your mission to make contact with the rabbits of Tarvan Bluff was a success. Please, introduce us to our guests.”

Bowing, Helmer gestured to Sigrid. “My king, may I present Sigrid, First Guardian of Tarvan Bluff. She serves Chief Tarvan, descendant of the oldest line of that Lord Tarvan who first settled the bluff. Sigrid, allow me to introduce you to King Jupiter Goodson, heir of Lander Whitson.”

Other rabbits might have hesitated to bring visitors before the king in such a state. Hewson would certainly have waited until Jupiter had been forewarned of his arrival. Even Captain Stam might have preferred that guests meet the king when he was prepared for such an audience. But Helmer had never cared for such niceties, and he had known the king long enough to sense that he was of like mind.

Perhaps King Jupiter little resembled, at that moment, the usual idea most have of a king. He was simply dressed and his fur was damp with sweat. But there was about him an air impossible either to define or mistake. Here was one who had received the nobility of a king, and who bore and exercised it in righteousness.

Jupiter smiled in greeting. “Welcome, my friends. Too long there has been silence between your bluff and our wood. And though I did not begin that silence, I feel it my duty to break it. May this be the beginning of a restoration of our long neglected friendship.”

Any doubts Sigrid and those with her might have harbored vanished as they looked upon Jupiter. Sigrid dropped to one knee with her head bowed, and her fellow Guardians did likewise. Deeply moved, Jupiter threw the towel over one shoulder. He then placed his hand upon Sigrid’s shoulder.

Sigrid looked up into the eyes of the king her people had ceased to hope for. Looking at her, and seeing the wonder in her face, Helmer was glad. He saw that the love he himself felt for Jupiter now lived in Sigrid’s own heart. The joy in her eyes made his own happiness, seasoned after years in Jupiter’s service, feel newly born.

“Mine king…it is being our honor to be receiving you. Though it is being long since our longfathers and mothers is leaving First Warren, we is never forgetting who is sending us and from where we is coming. Your coming is being most welcome. My only regret is being that you is finding us in direbad straits.”

“Then all the more reason for me to have come,” Jupiter said, helping her to her feet. “I can tell there is much for me to catch up on. Please join me in my tent. Lieutenant Helmer, please join us. Lord Captain Perkin, please attend to our other guests and returning scouts.”

With a nod, the rabbit with the eye patch started calling out orders as Jupiter led Sigrid and Helmer towards his tent.

It was a pleasant hour that Sigrid and Helmer spent in the company of King Jupiter. The monarch, though a number of years older than his guest and officer, was in no way condescending. Despite her initial awe, Sigrid soon felt at ease. Far from being unapproachable, Jupiter was kind and genuine.

He reacted naturally to every point, from the tales of the division to the outrages of the wolves and their allies. The sorrow and solemnity gave way to surprise, and even amusement, as Sigrid and Helmer described the battle between the scouting party and the Guardians. It was Sigrid who spoke most of this, with Helmer merely nodding in confirmation when Jupiter looked to him. He seemed, Sigrid thought, reluctant to speak of it, whether from embarrassment at her praise or some other feeling.

“You two must have been quite the sight,” Jupiter remarked when she had finished. “I’ve never had occasion to cross swords with Lieutenant Helmer myself, but I’ve seen him train and fight. It is a credit to you, Guardian, that you can match one who I suspect may be among the best swordsbucks in my army. And yet your confrontation showed more, I think, than matched skill.

“Lord Captain Harlen Seer might have more insight into such matters. Of course, he rarely says all that he thinks. I have some gifts of that sort, as it is said Lander Whitson did. Alas, I lack wisdom, and Harlen is in First Warren.

“Still, I think I am right in saying that the two of you have similar parts to play, together or separately. However, that is enough of such lofty talk.” Rising from his chair, Jupiter went to a chest and opened it. He returned with a map, which he laid on a table before Sigrid.

At his prompting, Sigrid examined the map, finding that it depicted Tarvan Bluff. It was, however, very old and not highly detailed. Only the original settlement, from which she came, was marked on it. With Jupiter’s leave, she took a pencil and marked the known dwellings of other clans living around the bluff.

Each new mark was accompanied by a brief description, as Sigrid summarized the most important facts about the other clans. Both Helmer and the king listened attentively, with Jupiter occasionally asking a question for clarification. At last, she grimly noted the places where wolves most often made their way onto the bluff and the routes they used to attack various settlements. Finished, she laid the pencil aside.

“Few have been speaking to the wolves themselves. Most are being wise enough to be knowing the folly of it. But we are hearing whispers of their kind. They are having a king whose name is being Farlock. And his cousin, eagerhungry for his own realm, is being called Garlacks.”

“Garlacks…and Farlock,” Helmer mused. “Not the most pleasant sounding of names. And I’m sure their owners have personalities to match. Still, two is better than the Six.”

“That is being little consolation, Helmer,” Sigrid replied testily. “Yes, we knowhear of the Six here. If there is being anything to be thankpraising the the northwolves for, it is being that they seem to have as little love for the Preylords as we ourselves is having. Farlock Whitewolf is being as jealous of his domains, maybe, as is being Morbin Blackhawk.”

Helmer did not reply, thoroughly chastened. His discomfort was so obvious that Sigrid felt guilty, however true her words. Looking to Jupiter, she was surprised to see that he looked amused. She wondered whether it was her reprimand of Helmer or, as she realized with a start, the fact that she had addressed her new friend by his name rather than his rank.

“We are grateful for this information, Guardian Sigrid. And your perspective is valuable as well. I agree that there is little comfort to be taken in the situation. What, do you think, would comfort your rabbits?”

“If we could be being one again, mine king,” Sigrid said with a bowed head. “Our greatest woes is coming from the bad breaking of our kinship bonds. I and many others is being eager ready to see our chief as Lord of Tarvan Bluff, like his longfathers. Then we is being strong to withstand the northwolves.”

Jupiter stroked his chin for a moment, considering this. “I would dearly like to grant that wish. Guardian. But while I certainly intend to appoint a new lord over the rabbits of this region, I cannot say yet that it will be your chief or any of his peers. Much as I wish to reinstate the old line, perhaps that is not what is best for Tarvan Bluff.

“Nor, I must warn you, does the seniority of your chief’s line guarantee his selection either. I am not the eldest of my father’s sons, and it may be that Tarvan Bluff’s next lord shall be like me. But I think I must meet your chief, and the others, before I can judge for certain. Do you know how such a meeting might be arranged?”

Sigrid considered the king’s question for a moment; then she smiled. “Mine king, there is being nothing simpler. Leaping Week* is being soon here! All the clans do be gathering at that time!”

“Leaping Week?”

For a moment Sigrid stared at Helmer, wondering if his confused inquiry were some sort of jest. But it was clear from his and the king’s expressions that neither of them knew what she was referring to. Incredulous, Sigrid looked between them. Finally mastering her shock, and indeed dismay, she spoke again.

“Do you not be celebrating the Leaping at First Warren? Seven days, being in the memory of the Seven Stones? With celebration and solemnity both?”

“My forefathers…some of them, at any rate…are to blame,” Jupiter responded soberly. “Between the days of Lander, and those of my father Walter, they lost their way. Not all, and not all equally, but they wandered all the same. Many ceased to honor the Leapers, forgetting even that their right to rule was based on Whitson Mariner’s descent from Flint Firstking.

“They did not, as the house of Grimble or your own waywards, make pacts with predators. Some probably would have, had distance not prevented it. But others were certain in First Warren’s strength, forgetting where it came from. And so they abandoned the rabbits of Tarvan Bluff and other far-flung settlements and turned their thoughts inward, not back or even forward.

“But what they have marred, we will seek to mend,” Jupiter asserted, smiling now. “I would dearly love to see this tradition, which your rabbits have preserved, make its way back among the rabbits of Natalia at large. If you will, Guardian, you and your fellows will teach my rabbits what we must know for Leaping Week. Lieutenant Helmer, you will see to it that they have whatever assistance they require. When we meet the rabbits of Tarvan Bluff, it shall be after their own manner.”

Eagerly, Sigrid assented, and she and Helmer took their leave of the king. As they exited the tent and began walking, however, she felt less sure. Though Jupiter’s following was, as Helmer explained, only a part of his army, it was still a mighty host. Could she really instruct so many rabbits in the traditions of her people in so short a time?

“You is feeling nervous, Sigrid?”

Helmer’s question, in gentle imitation of her own mode of speech, caught her by surprise. She glanced at him, then saw that he was looking at her hand. Quite unconsciously, she had drawn her knife and been twirling it, just as Helmer had done earlier. With a rueful smile at him, she tossed the spinning blade up in the air and caught it as it came down.

*The Story Warren Discord member revtup inspired this concept with a recent question about holidays in the Green Ember world.