The Sire Sheaf

by Russ L. Howard

  “By Tah-Man-Ea, they carved him into pieces like some sort of sacrificial animal.”

  Meny nodded, “And that’s exactly what they will one day do to us, if we fail to defeat them.” She rose abruptly. “I think the tea is done, shall we have some? And the bread looks brown enough for me. What about you?”

  “Yes, it’s done enough. Do you have some honey?”

  “You know I do, Ahy. Help yourself. Where were we?”

  Ahy raised her hand. “Enough for now Meny. I can’t get this drawing out of my head now and will probably have nightmares over it.”

  Meny looked her square on. “Now, at least, you can understand why Surrey needs to convince the tribes to unite against the Pitters.”

  Ahy said, “That’s another issue I must consider. I couldn’t bear it if the same thing happened to him that happened to Os.” She shuttered.

  Meny turned to grin at her. “Aha, Ahy, I told you, you would love him and now I see that you do.”

  Taneshewa started to deny it, “Nooo! No! ---Well, maybe a little.”

  “You’ve always been stubborn. I remember the time you said Standing Bull was just a passing whim. It wasn’t until you were sneaking out at night to be with him that you even admitted it.”

  Taneshewa glared at her. “Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson. If you have to sneak, it has to be wrong.”

  * * *

  The creaking of crossed upright timbers awoke Sur Sceaf at dawn. He sat up and looked out the open flap of his tipi into the misty morning twilight where he caught the graceful movement of a sleek feminine form walking down the path that led to the lake. It didn’t take him long to realize it was Taneshewa on her way to bathe. He tossed the cape off and stepped out into the cool morning air, dressed only in his leather loin clout with a painted fire swan taking flight across the front.

  She was as slim and sleek as a fawn, arousing all his male vigor. He was not about to let her pass without some fun. “Hey!” he hollered and waved. Startled, she turned and with a brief smile waved back.

  “You see I’m not wearing a shirt today so you better not lose that dress again.”

  She made a sudden about face, pivoted, and put her fists on her hips and slowly looked him up and down. “From the looks of it, it is likely I who shall be lending you clothing today. Do all you white men run around naked like savages?” She hollered in a sarcastic tone.

  Everywhere her gaze went, his skin tingled. “Whenever we feel like it. Yes!”

  “Well, just let me remind you that people have fallen to their deaths from the high rings before. Especially, smart asses who are already afraid of heights. So don’t press your luck, Fire-Swan.”

  “Alright, truce!” he declared with a broad smile. “I know when I’ve been trumped.”

  “Just remember that,” she said before parting the ferns and disappearing in the tall reeds.

  Lingering outside the tipi he toyed with the idea of sneaking up on her and stealing her clothes, but had to remind himself that since he was not married to her, such a prank would cost him dearly. Besides, he was not sure he was up to resisting the temptation of looking upon her naked body if given the chance. The last encounter still burned hot in his memory, especially at night. No, he must treat her exactly as he had gentled White Fire into the magnificent stallion he was. He would let her come to him and step-by-step earn her trust. As he turned toward the basket holding White Fire’s grain, he remembered that moment when the half-grown colt allowed him to stroke his soft muzzle. Oh, Holy Freya, how his hands yearned to glide over Taneshewa’s sleek silken skin. As he scooped out grain he admonished himself to go slowly. This was only the first tentative sign of trust. There was still a long way to go before he dare reveal the overpowering spiritual and physical depths of his true feelings for her. Something she had yet to learn.

  * * *

  Sur Sceaf was satisfied that he had the Ring Ritual of the Rite of the Eclipse down. He had mastered his part. He looked down at the glistening Unequa Stream flowing under the arched wooden bridge and smiled. Twice before, he, Taneshewa, and Going Snake had all three come together in their rings and the three of them now stood together inside of the globe the rings created.

  Redelfis shouted up, “Damned good! Damned good! That’s enough for the day.”

  Going Snake said, “I can’t believe he said we did good. Redelfis never compliments me. I can’t wait till we do this at the crater when Papa is watching. He thought I was going to be too young.”

  Taneshewa put a hand on his back. “You were much better than Clowning Wolf last year.”

  Going Snake grinned and said, “What about Surrey? He did real well too.”

  She glanced at Sur Sceaf. He grinned, “I had to. I was threatened with bodily harm if I didn’t.”

  “Careful, you’re not on the ground yet.”

  Redelfis called up from the ground. “Alright, alright, you all are enjoying this way too much. That tells me, you’ve got it. We’ll have one more practice tomorrow and then we’ll see how well you do at the crater.”

  Thrilled with the glint of humor in her eyes, Sur Sceaf began untying the rings. By the angle of the sun glinting off the Unequa Stream where it flowed under the arched wooden bridge, he judged it to be around three on the water clock. They had rehearsed the Ring Ritual three times. Although initially reserved, Taneshewa had been very congenial, free, and open, even flirtatious a time or two. He was thrilled when he managed to set her giggling and even more so when she teased him right back. Since he had detected no mockery or derision, he took it as a sign she was becoming comfortable with him.

  As Redelfis and his crew of young braves lowered the rings, Going Snake said, “Surrey, my friends and some of the older boys are setting up a bear drag. Do you want to come with us and see how Fur Puller is doing?”

  “Not today, my friend. I need to talk with Redelfis about the height of the rings at the crater and besides, Dancing Rabbit is bringing our repast and has sent word she had a favor to ask.”

  The boy looked mildly disappointed, but seemed to understand. He no sooner took off down the trail to his tipi, than Dancing Rabbit along with Meny and Sparrow Hawk arrived with their food and drink. He helped Taneshewa from the rings and walked with her to the tule mats where the women were laying out the dishes of a fine meal of venison, hominy, and beans.

  As they sat down, Dancing Rabbit said, “Sun Cryer is supposed to come over to the long lodge with his talking chiefs. I was hoping you would tell them about the ways of the Hyrwardi as a means of preparing them for the pow wow at the crater.”

  Sur Sceaf said, “I’d be honored, but I think a skald would do a better job.”

  The meal was hearty. Conversations ranged from Sur Sceaf’s horse studs to his encounter with the three ruffians, to the time he backed into a tent naked with Onamingo in it.

  Meny said, “And your sons, have they paid you back for all your wicked ways.”

  He laughed and was about to regale them with his sons’ misdeeds and pranks when Going Snake came riding back on his pinto pony.

  The boy dismounted before the pony even stopped. His eyes were wide. “Sur Sceaf, Sur Sceaf! I just saw an elf waiting for you at your tipi.”

  Taneshewa gave a puzzled look. “You mean a medicine man?”

  The boy became more emphatic. “No! I’m telling you it was an elf.”

  Dancing Rabbit tried to soothe the boy. “It was probably Chief Sun Cryer on his way to the long lodge.”

  The boy stomped his foot. “No! I’m telling you it was a white elf.”

  Meny inquired, “What did he look like, Going Snake?”

  Going Snake squared his shoulders. “He was very tall, but had a fork beard. He even had white robes, a deep hood, and held a magic wand with a swan’s head and wings on it. He looked somewhat like Sur Sceaf, but whiter and maybe younger. He asked me about the Lord Prince Sur Sceaf, but it was like his voice was musical and he was singing it. When he sent me to find Surrey, his voi
ce was like the soft music of Thunder Horse’s marriage drum. I wanted to stay and ask him questions, but he bid me away with all swiftness to find you.”

  Sur Sceaf smiled and took Going Snake by the hand. “That’s my brother, Lord Long Swan the Lore Master.” Sur Sceaf rose up from the tule mat. “I shall have to excuse myself, ladies. The only reason a lore master is come, is to deliver a royal communiqué, which can only be conveyed from mouth to ear.”

  Dancing Rabbit also rose, “Lord Prince Sur Sceaf, if a lore master is here, would you mind inviting him to the long lodge this evening? He can answer all the questions of the Buffalo Chiefs and that would be the desire of Onamingo.”

  “Long Swan would be honored. I’ll make it so.”

  * * *

  Sun Cryer and his talking chiefs arrived shortly after sunset. After a festive meal of elk the party retired to the long lodge where torches had been lit. The hides had been raised to let the heat of the day escape, but were now being lowered for privacy.

  On the hide-covered platform, Taneshewa sat next to her mother, Dancing Rabbit, who presided in Onamingo’s stead. On her other side sat Sun Cryer, Thunder Horse, and Sur Sceaf. Before them stood the tall white man called Long Swan in his deep hooded white robe with his winged swan staff in hand.

  The rest of the company sat on tule mats covering the hard packed peat floor. Meny and Sagwi sat together on one side and the Buffalo talking chiefs clustered to the other. With a nod from Dancing Rabbit, Sur Sceaf rose from the platform, stepped down to the floor, and walked over to his brother.

  “Honored Chief Sun Cryer and respected Talking Chiefs, this is my brother, Lord Long Swan, an honored lore master and wizard of the Herewardi. Though he be the youngest of lore masters, he is likely the most knowledgeable. He knows more than most Herewardi men could know in four life times.”

  Taneshewa was intrigued by the exquisitely refined features of this young lord. He had those same piercing green eyes of Sur Sceaf, was several shades fairer, and had a face that glowed with intelligence. She glanced at her friend who seemed impressed and enthralled. At last, here’s a man for Meny.

  Sur Sceaf continued in a reverential voice, “Unlike most Herewardi men of his age, my brother has not taken a wife to marriage and has chosen instead to devote himself to the studying of ancient works. Unlike most Herewardi, he remains unmarried.”

  Taneshewa realized that if the brothers had reversed their roles she would have had no trouble in loving Sur Sceaf. But why, she thought, if he looks like Sur Sceaf, is single and as handsome as a Thunder Being, am I not drawn to him like I am to Sur Sceaf? Why would I even proffer him to Meny instead? From that first meeting, it was as though Sur Sceaf has cast some kind of spell over me that only grows stronger with each passing day.

  Sur Sceaf then turned to nod at his Brother. “I now present to you Lord Long Swan, the Herewardi Lore Master, the best man I know to unveil the history and peculiarities of the Herewardi People and he can answer any questions you may have.”

  Long Swan waited until Sur Sceaf returned to the platform before beginning. To Taneshewa, he seemed very confident in his delivery and went into great detail about the beginning history of the Herewardi Tribe. He told about the dolmans built to bury Os, his sons, and the Great Lore Masters of yore on the mound called Heredom located in the Firginias.

  Sun Cryer interrupted to inquire, “If Os is the Father of the Hyrwardi as Tah-Man-Ea is the Father of the Sharaka and he and most of his warriors had been killed, how did the Hyrwardi survive and become the mighty people they are today?”

  “A good question, Chief Sun Cryer. Os, whose full name was Hrus-Syr-Os, had a warrior son named Howrus, who had a mighty army that was away in the North Lands freeing the Quailor when the Battle of Big Springs, in which Os fell, was taking place.”

  Meny spoke up, “I have read of this in the books Shining Moon sent me. How Howrus was away protecting the defenseless Quailor, who, because they do not believe in war, refused to put up a fight and were enslaved by the Pitters.”

  “You are right, young lady.” Long Swan nodded and smiled at her. “May I know your name?”

  “I’m called Meny.”

  “I perceive you are a scholar, Meny. You must be the one Shining Moon said is the Keeper of the Mountain Scrolls.”

  “That would be me,” Meny said with some pride that at least one person recognized her labors and efforts to preserve Sharaka history.

  “It would be my pleasure to have you recount the History of the Great Sharaka Nation from the Mountain Scrolls.”

  “I cannot think of anything I would like more. There are even many of my own people who do not know their long and glorious history.” Taneshewa saw Meny’s face turn pink with joy and noticed the talking chiefs exchanged looks of pride. “The Mountain Scrolls say the history of the Red Man goes back to great civilizations called the Mound Builders. If Sun Cryer cares I can reveal what the Mountain Scrolls say tomorrow.”

  Long Swan smiled warmly at her. “I’m sure he would like that. I know I would. I will continue.” After a brief pause, he declared, “When Howrus came back and found his father dead and all his tribe slain, their temple in ashes, and the women and children imprisoned, he first secured the Quailor in a stronghold near a place called Sleepy Creek. Then he and his bands of warriors, called fyrds, poured down their wrath on the town of Harpers Ferry where his mother, wife, and all the women and the children of the Herewardi were being kept imprisoned, thus effectively squashing the Pitter and Vardropi legions. Howrus then returned to Heredom, secured their holy books and after building the dolmans for Os and his three sons, marched the remnant of his people up to the Sleepy Creek Stronghold.”

  “Our people underwent a similar flight,” Taneshewa declared.

  “And ours have steadily stood off the Pitter Empire,” Sun Cryer boasted.

  “Most certainly, they did. The skalds have taught how bravely the Buffalo Nations and the Snowmen have withstood not only the Vardropi and the Pitters, but also the ferocious beasts of the North.” He smiled at Sun Cryer. “I shall continue. I would sight your mind that the remaining Herewardi were marked for extermination and forced to hide in the mountains in grass huts at a place called Meadow Branch. There, Howrus received a revelation from the gods that the only way to restore the Herewardi Race to the power it once held was to introduce the Key of the gods. So many men had been killed that our people were in danger of dying off for want of seed to replenish them. The men were outnumbered by the women twenty to one, which imbalance lead to great unhappiness and misery among the remaining women, and contentions arose over the few remaining men. The Quailor also did not wish to mingle with the Heathen Herewardi and at that time, forbade any intermarriage with us.

  “Howrus went into the wilderness and called upon the gods for a solution. On the Fifth Sabbath he received revelation from Mother Freya bestowing the Key of the Gods upon mankind. The Goddess Freya revealed that the only way for the Herewardi to make a comeback would be to allow each man to take as many wives as he chose and the women would permit just as the gods did. Though a rough go at first, in time this practice proved both successful and satisfying to both men and women, so the ruling elders enshrined the principle in our Forty-Four Sacred Laws where the practice remains well rooted to this day.”

  Taneshewa asked, “But is it required of every man to take more than one wife?”

  “Certainly not. There are those among us who have but one wife and live happily in our midst.”

  Meny spoke up. “What about the women? Can they take more than one husband?”

  “That was tried once and it became disastrous. By nature, the elders learned that women’s energy complimented one another, but men’s energy was competitive and destructive.” He grinned at her. “I’m sure you’ve seen two bull elks locked in mortal combat, but as you know the cows do not do much fighting.” He cleared his throat. “But even as our numbers increased, life has never been easy on the Herewardi. First we were
forced to flee Sleepy Creek and move from place to place, crossing the Great Missip Sea over the Flooded Lands into the Taxus Hill Country where we gained some respite and began to grow once again into a mighty people. Fortunately, Howrus had been schooled in the antiquities and knew how important it was to preserve the ancient writings of Prenus, Alfred, and Hereward. In order to ensure that all the following generations would have this knowledge, he established the priesthood known as the Roufytrof and set them up to be the guardians of this sacred knowledge.”

  Sun Cryer inquired, “What I am concerned with is how the Herewardi got here and why they live in so many places now. Would you tell us what caused this great spread of your people.”

  “Sure enough, after three generations passed in the Firginias the Herewardi built wooden homes and fortifications. But the Pitters began a campaign of expansion once again and came against them with a hoard of well-trained Vardropi warriors. Among the Herewardi, Elrus, a man of holiness, arose and led the Herewardi out of the mountains of the Firginias across the Flooded Lands and into the Taxus Lands where he built great cities in peace and prosperity and once again the Herewardi civilization thrived until the Pitters started ingesting the fruit of bamboo that caused them to breed like a swarm of locusts. As the Missip Sea shrank more and more each year, it wasn’t long before the Pitters had only a river to cross and sent their swollen legions into the Taxus to drive the Herewardi out once again. For the Pitters are possessed with an eternal hatred of the Herewardi and have vowed to follow and exterminate them forever, calling us the Vestige of the Past. But the Pitters had never encountered the might of such a mighty army as that of Arundel the Great. He not only repelled them, but built the marvelous city-state of Omala and the Great Monasteries of Elves Island and Leakey, which holy places entertained elves from on high.”

  Taneshewa said, “Then the elves are real. They do exist.”

  Long Swan smiled, “As surely as you and I do. Always have! Always will. They were our forefathers and in all likelihood, once Meny and I go over those Mountain Scrolls, you shall come to find they were yours too. That’s why we have so much in common.”