The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2)
Page 20
Finally, when Lana had reluctantly drawn herself away from her sister, Sur Sceaf shifted Isabelle to one arm and hugged Verushka with the other. “Remember my offer, if you ever change your mind, just call on us and we’ll have a military escort bring you to safety.” She had tried to give an answer, but words would not come. Once more he had given Isabelle a hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek before bending to set her on her dainty feet. But the child had clung to his neck and refused to let go. She had said, “Oh, Surrey, take dolly and me with thee. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”
From the corner of his eye he saw Rudolf’s face turn red, but as the man walked toward him, he stood and gave Rudolf a glare that froze him in his tracks. Then speaking directly to the little girl that still clung to him, he whispered softly, “I will call upon my gods to watch over you. I believe we will see each other again. There is something that tells me in here.” He patted his chest. “Remember that thy Tante and Onkel love thee very much.”
Ludmilla and Lana both hugged their sister one last time and said their farewells to the children, as did Sur Sceaf.
Prying Isabelle’s little hands from around his neck and handing her to Verushka was sheerest agony. Even now as they took to the road, it was all he could do to keep from racing back and snatching her up. He knew that if the Wose were here, he would have sent him back to kidnap the child. And that option was still open.
As he waited for the wagon train to move on, Sur Sceaf looked to the heavens to pray and noticed the same strange shaped cloud like the one on the day when he met the Wayfarer in the wilderness and just like that cloud, this one was going counter to the other clouds. Instinctively, he scanned the surroundings to see if the two ravens were near, but was disappointed that they were nowhere to be seen.
Once the white clad priests of Ephrata had settled in the wagon again, Elijah signaled for the driver of the wagon containing the ark to follow him around Pyrsyrus’ carriage and wagons.
The wagon of the ark and the buggy of priests slipped into the line following the fyrd. Sur Sceaf followed as far as Pyr’s carriage. Lana’s parent’s buggy was stationed right behind Pyrsyrus’ wagons. Pyrsyrus had arranged for the Durers buggy to ride behind his so as to provide a measure of comfort to Lana and her parents. Sur Sceaf found the irony disheartening, They win one daughter back and lose another. The gods give with the right hand and take with the left. What can the Norn Sisters be thinking? He wondered if it were some universal law, so commonly had he observed it to be the case.
He stopped to offer succor to Lana. To his relief, Lana appeared to take comfort from his words. Promising her that Shug would keep an eye on them seemed to ease her. The smoke was growing thicker overhead and now that the ark was on the move, the priests were singing in their baritone voices a hymn that said, “Lift up thine heart, Lift up thy voice. Rejoice again, I say rejoice.” He noticed the ark was now draped with the Holy Ineffable Barnstar Verbindung Veil. After saying goodbye to the ladies he rode past the ark and the fyrds to the front. As he passed, the fyrds arranged in groups of twelve riding three abreast, the fyrd members saluted him with the words, “Hrus, Hrus, Hrus. Howrus among us.” Several called out personal greetings, which he returned. In the past, he had trained with many of the older members. Crooked Jack, the leader of the leading twelvers which is called the spitze, greeted him with particular warmth. When he reached the front, he exchanged a few words with Pyrsyrus.
By evening all were safely camped in a meadow about ten miles from the mountains called the Three Sisters. Proposed campsites had been chosen based upon available forage, water, sufficient room, and safety concerns. Under the burning candle of the eastern moon, Sur Sceaf took his last inspection along the full length of the train. All seemed in order. The priests had lowered the canopy of the ark wagon and set four young guards to the task of watching it along with two high priests.
Experience had taught him that the first day of any journey was the most difficult and that trains and troop movements tended to pick up speed as the trek went on. The next day they would start up the Woonburgen through the Sisters. After turning White Fire over to the groom, he walked back to the tent that Swan Ray offered him and Lana. By the time he reached Pyrsyrus’ camp, most of the train had settled down for the night. Mendaka’s dog soldiers had been dispatched in all four directions to stand guard against any surprise attack.
The night air was still tinged with smoke and when he looked north toward Salem the glow against the cloud ceiling showed the fires were far from finished with their business. He offered up a quick prayer for the welfare of the people he left behind and asked for guidance in shepherding the people now in his charge. It struck him then that one era had closed and another era opened. From this day on, the Quailor, the Herewardi, and the Sharaka would be known as the three tribes. Now the weight of responsibility bore down on his shoulders heavier than a double ox-bow yoke. There was no turning back. Every decision he made from here on would determine whether they triumphed or were obliterated from the Ea-Urth forever.
* * *
The following day the migration moved off shortly after dawn. Sur Sceaf went to Pyrsyrus carriage and asked Face-of-Stars to send off a pigeon to the Roufytrof giving their position and to also send off a pigeon wishing his blessings on Faechild and Shining Moon’s new children. Lana then sent a pigeon to her son Aelfheah charging him to continue to be a good steward in her absence and to follow the example of his brother, Arundel, in keeping accurate records. Finally, another pigeon was sent to Eloheh at DiAhman stating they would be arriving in approximately a fortnight. Face-of-Stars wrote the notes and sent off the pigeons. Shading his eyes against the rising sun, Sur Sceaf watched the pigeons circle. Some darted across the mountains to DiAhman, and others broke off to Witan Jewell.
As a single pigeon made way for DiAhman, he thought on Taneshewa. Did she take his advice and counsel with Mendaho about the ways of the Herewardi? Would she be more receptive when next they met? By the gods, I love everything about that woman.
Sur Sceaf rode up and down the line. He noticed that feet seemed more determined, conversations were future-oriented, and there was less weeping over leaving. Breaking camp had once again been well executed by Elijah and the Society of Ephrata. He rode along, thinking about going home. More and more, he was growing anxious to see his wives and children and to get back to his plantation on his estate of Namen Jewell.
He secretly smiled at jokes his children had once told him. Images of his wives appeared to him as he sat in the saddle and he felt a strong connection to each one, even in their absences.
At midday he came upon twin Herewardi girls about the age of two of his daughters, Saxia and Angelonde, holding hands while following their nursing mother along the trek. He thought upon Faechild and Shining Moon whose due dates were now past and he wondered about the welfare of both the babies and their mothers. It was always very exciting at their lodge when a new child entered the family circle and it meant the ranks of future warriors and mothers of warriors were growing.
He wished he could be with his women, for even though he knew Paloma would take very good care of them, he still worried for their well-being. He prayed in his heart as he looked Heavenward: Elven Lords and Holy Wyrd Sisters weave my dreams and heart’s desire into this life. Direct and inspire me in my commission in service of these diverse peoples, that we be able to form an unbreakable holy alliance against the Pitters while my entire family is preserved whole to me. Please, be in my stead where I cannot be.
During the midday break Sur Sceaf visited throughout the train. Near one small cluster to the rear, he spotted Fromer in conversation with Elijah. Fromer was gesturing erratically. Elijah was beet-faced red and gritting his teeth. Nearby, Herman just stood like a statue watching the two yell back and forth at each other. In their center, sitting on a chair, with Hartmut kneeling in front of her, was Lila, her arms defiantly crossed and a pronounced frown on her aged face. It was only the second day and
there was already dissension. He knew this was likely the beginning of his arbitrating many more disputes than he was accustomed to.
Now the cause of this great commotion, he came to learn, was over Lila Stobie’s contrary will.
As soon as Lila spotted Sur Sceaf, she demanded in her high-pitched voice, “Surrey, I demand to return to Salem. I’m not going another inch in that torture chamber.” She pointed her crooked finger at the birthing wagon. “I know thou art in need of my help, but this wagon hath bounced my brittle bones all over the place to the point I am sick to my stomach and shaking all over. I shall not ride another day in it and I miss my home, so.”
Hartmut said, “Please Lila, the children and I need thee.”
“Ridiculous!” Fromer shouted. “This old woman already has one foot in the grave. She’s holding up the whole train. Doesn’t she know we burned her house down? Enough of her childish requests, she’s like a whiney child that always wants its way. Smack her fingers, Hartmut, and make her come. Chop, chop!”
Sur Sceaf shot a warning look at Fromer and at the same time searched his mind for a viable solution. Before he could speak, Herman the Kettle Maker, clothed in his usual dark brown leather apron said firmly, “I will not hear of it. Thou shalt not stay, Lila. I will carry thee to Witan Jewell in my arms and thou shan’t so much as feel a bump in the road. Thou wast always kind to me. Thou art no burden.”
Sur Sceaf knelt beside Hartmut and took her other hand in his. “Lila, we will need your help at Witan Jewell. All these children you see on this march will need your wisdom and the memories of how the Herewardi and Quailor once got along fairly well together. I’m counting on you to teach them,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, “so take this generous offer of Herman’s and help us on our journey.”
“I think that would suit me chust fine.” Lila looked up at Herman and burst into tears.
Hartmut looked Herman directly in the eyes. “I am very grateful to thee, Brother Herman. I shall not forget this great act of kindness.”
Fromer was beside himself. “How canst thou associate with this beast, Lila? He should have been left behind and allowed to fend for himself as we dycons already prescribed. Thou wouldst let the unclean arms of an outcast carry thee?”
“Fromer,” Sur Sceaf charged him only to catch himself and reel in his passion, “you are down right filled with the spirit of intolerance and contention.” It was all he could do to not strangle the shit out of him.
Elijah reprimanded the dycon as well, “Thou knowest, we high priests overruled such heartless and ungodly action as thou hadst suggested, Fromer.”
Fromer stalked off indignantly, still fuming, and shaking his head.
Sur Sceaf recalled when they were leaving Salem, that he had seen Hartmut placing a bouquet of roses on Evangeline’s grave. He had noticed that there was a tiny tombstone with a lamb sculptured on top of it and realized Hartmut had actually suffered two very great losses. He understood just how much Lila meant to him. She was the last vestige of Evangeline he could cling to.
After the noon meal, Herman swept Lila up like a baby in his massive arms and cradled her like a child carries a kitten over many miles. And thus did Herman for many days.
* * *
On the fourteenth day the trekkers had come out of the Arundelean Mountains, crossing over at The Three Sister’s trail into the reasonable safety of the high desert. They set up camp for the evening and eased into their nightly routines. Sur Sceaf made his usual rounds with Mendaka at his side when he came upon Herman taking some bread and meat to Lila.
Herman said, “Here, thou must partake of nourishment to keep up thy strength up, Sister Lila. Thou dost feel lighter and lighter everyday.”
“But Bruder Herman, I’m not hungry and fasting doeth the soul good,” Lila said in a crackling voice.
Herman turned to Sur Sceaf. “Tell her, Sur Sceaf, that if she doth not eat, she’ll have to carry me to DiAhman.”
Everyone laughed.
“Alright, alright, give it to me and I’ll try mouthing it,” Lila said. “But truly I’m not hungry in the least.”
Sur Sceaf marked how nurturing Herman had been to Lila and told Mendaka, “This man’s heart is as big as his body. I measure him a good enough man. Let us consider him and try him, Quailor law has brought him into great disfavor, but that might be as simple as a disagreement with the dycons.”
Mendaka nodded. “He might prove worthy of the fyrd. By the gods, with his strength, he could be a one man fyrd.”
“Just imagine the fear he would inspire in the enemy.”
Mendaka looked introspective. “I have often found that big oaks are rotten in the core. Better to wait until we have the whole picture, my lord.”
* * *
Late that evening under the starry canopy of the high desert sky, Sur Sceaf took off his shirt and sat on a stool in Lana’s borrowed tent. As she massaged his shoulders, he recited the events of the day to her and the problems he had had to solve, one after another. This was something he did routinely, as it tended to order his thoughts, but only with Paloma, Lana, and Milkchild, because they offered the wisest of counsel. Though each approached the same problem from very different perspectives. Their counsel, taken together gave him the deepest of insight into problems and their solutions.
After listening for a while, Lana’s mind wandered. She added, “I chust wish we had stayed in Salem long enough to see Verushka deliver her baby. Oh, well, Thou knowest we’ll be coming home to two new babies of our own. Shining Moon and Faechild will have delivered by the time we return.”
“I know,” he turned and looked over his shoulder, “I’ve marked the days. I have contemplated it much and even though I know the bride-covey will take good care of them. I used to say I’d always be present at my children’s birth. Now every missed opportunity saddens me and they just keep coming more and more frequent. It can’t be fitting for the father to be absent from the birth.”
Lana dropped a kiss on his shoulder. “Faechild and Shining Moon have the comfort of their bride-sisters. They will understand, my lord. They all know that family is first for thee, and that this service thou renderest is unto their glory.” She let loose his braids before brushing the tangles out of his hair. “How much longer before we get home?”
Sur Sceaf did a fast calculation in his head. “It’ll be twelve days before we reach DiAhman and at least another two moonths after that before we make Witan Jewell. But that is only if nothing untoward should occur.”
“Well, there is something strange going on, my love. I took Lila a blanket and was a little upset more people aren’t visiting with her. I’ve only seen Iron Master Herman and Hartmut there and thou knowest Lila was always much beloved throughout the whole Quailor community. We used to all gather on her lawn to hear her sing, and tell her intriguing stories of the olden times.”
“Lana, it’s not Lila they’re avoiding. It’s Herman. The people are shunning him under the directive of the dycons. Whatever he did must have been pretty bad because such total estrangement is most rare.”
Lana laid the brush aside.
Sur Sceaf went on, “I have no idea why they are doing this and as you know it is against our policy to ask prying questions from a culture that insists on no intrusion. From what I’ve witnessed of these dycons, they have no tolerance for any departure from their self-prescribed doctrines and they certainly don’t suffer any feedback.”
“I’m no longer a member of that community,” Lana said. “I don’t have to shun him. In fact I have come to consider the practice of shunning as just another form of spiritual abuse.”
“As always my love, you speak with the tongue of heart-felt compassion.”
“In point of fact, Herman Kesselmacher may be one of the finest men I’ve ever met.”
“Still, all men are subject to their passions and few there be that master them.”
Lana teased, “Soundeth like a personal confession.”
* * *
When he reached them, Herman managed to choke out. “My lord, Sister Lila is dead.”
“Oh, Herman, I am so sorry,” Sur Sceaf said. He was relieved that her road to the grave had been so eased by Herman’s compassion, but sad that an old friend had passed. “Dear Sister Lila, she was always so kind and encouraging to me when I was young. I know how you must have cared for her, too, Herman.”
Mendaka said, “I too, am sorry. I mourn the loss of such an ancient. There is much wisdom gone from Earth. Has Hartmut been told yet?”
“No, he was gone to fill the water canteens before I found her stiff cold body lying still in her blankets.”
Sur Sceaf said, “Though her loss grieves us, I think she was ready to make her journey home.”
“I cannot dispute that, but I shall miss the company of my dear friend. When I was with her, I didn’t feel so alone. And when I carried her she would chatter like a little canary. Made me laugh so much that half the time I didn’t even know I was carrying her.”
“Of course we will not travel today. The passing of this great Lady should be honored by all.” He touched Herman on the shoulder. “Herman, if you would please take her back to her tent so that the women may prepare her. I’ll inform Elijah.”