8
Everything was ready; the fire was blazing, the venison was nearly cooked, and filled the firesite with a tantalizing aroma. There was no table, but plates of nuts and cheeses and small rolls had been set out on logs. Table mats of woven branches had been placed in regular intervals around the edge of the clearing ready to receive the vegetables that were cooking in the ashes of the fire, while garlands of flowers and leaves decorated the surrounding trees.
Lapping Water entered the clearing carrying Gurgling Brook and smiled at the display and a sea of expectant faces. “Oh. This looks beautiful. King Gavin is about to arrive.”
“Please stand,” said Sheldrake, in a quiet but authoritative voice, “For His Majesty, King Gavin of Carrador.”
Everyone stood up nervously, brushed themselves
