"An alarm for us, too!"  Isaac shoved back his chair as he rose.  "There's Belinkuns coming through them woods!"  Then he remembered the courtesies and turned to Grandma Em.  "Shall we go against them?"

"Do," Grandma said, "but only send twenty rifles.  Leave a dozen here and have the other ten scout the rest of the boundaries.  It's not like the Belinkuns to let themselves be seen so easy."

"Diversion!" Martha snapped.  "They're trying to draw us away while their main body attacks somewhere else!  You take the twenty, Isaac, and I'll go scout with the ten!"

"Sound the alarm," Isaac told the young man, who nodded and hurried away.

Word had run by itself through the keeping room, though.  All the clansfolk were up and running for their weapons except for a few Grandma Em's age, who sat and swore because they were too old to do more than hug the little ones who stared, wide-eyed and frightened, as their parents and big brothers and big sisters rushed about, snatching up weapons and hats and bolting for the door.  In minutes they were gone, leaving only the old and the young.  Even the bigger children exclaimed in anger and pleaded with their seniors to be allowed to go out and join the fight.

"Don't even speak of it, Allie," one old woman told ten-year-old.  "You know you're not big enough to tote more than a carbine."

"But I'm a dead shot with it!"  The little girl thrust her jaw out pugnaciously.  "I can bring down a squirrel at a hundred yards!"

"So you can, and that'll suit us right fine when you're fourteen," said the old man sitting next to her.  "Wait till you're old enough to carry a rifle though."

"That'll be forever!"

Alea stared at them, shaken.

"What ails you, friend?" Grandma Em asked.  "Never seen one so keen?"

"Not that young, no."  Alea pushed back her chair and rose.  "If you don't mind, Miz Farland, I'll go out and join the rifles,"

"Yes, I think we should."  Gar rose, too.  "After all, you've given us hospitality."

Grandma Em frowned.  "Can you shoot?"

"Of course."  Alea didn't mention that she'd never used a gun that fired bullets, only raw bursts of energy.

The old woman considered the issue, frowning, then pronounced her judgment.  "'Tain't fitten for guests to take sides, and poor hospitality if we let you go into danger."

"We can't just sit here idle while people may be dying!" Gar objected.

Grandma Em smiled.  "You sound like that eager little one there."

"I'm a bit older than ten," Alea said tartly.

Grandma Em relented.  "Well, that's so.  Go and watch, then, and maybe help with the wounded if the shooting moves past them.  But don't let yourself get into the line of fire, you hear?"