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The Sire Sheaf (The King of Three Bloods Book 1)

Page 12

by Russ L. Howard


  “Then that is where I shall start.” Sur Sceaf began, “It was two winters after the coordinated Pitter Invasion of the Taxus Hilly Country, in which Lord Ilker of the blood line and his fyrds were destroyed long after the betrayal at the Battle of Frink Glen had taken place. Thus, Wose, Mendaka, and I visited the far-flung Herewardi Settlements to assess their strengths and ended with our visit to Kanarus’ Lair amongst the Apache Ndee. Kanarus is the son of Ilker, an irregular Herewardi warlord. He is called the Half-King. Along with Mangus Mesculera, he established his lair as an impenetrable fortress in the White Mountains. Kanarus’ fyrd combined with the Ndee are a fierce people like unto the Sharaka. Unlike Tahlequah, their advantage lies in the natural fortifications and the weapons that the great wizard, Govannon, has forged for them. Powerful horse bows, Elven blades, and impenetrable shields, to name a few.”

  “Who is this wizard?” Onamingo inquired.

  “He is of two bloods. His father was Herewardi, and his mother was Ndee, daughter of the Great Zootchise. His grandfather, Waelwulf, was a Herewardi alchemist of some renown and a wizard of no small acclaim. He bestowed all his training and secret knowledge upon Govannon, who has now become an even greater wizard, shaping metals to wondrous uses and making weapons of Elven steel, the likes of which man has not heretofore seen. It is even said in the councils of my people that Govannon has walked with the gods.”

  Snake Horse looked intrigued, “Where is this great wizard now, that we may have weapons of him?”

  “You will find he resides in Ur Ford on the coast among the Jywds.”

  Onamingo frowned in puzzlement. “A man from the White Mountains chooses the coast?”

  “He does, because he is also a prophet and has declared that Ur Ford shall soon be the eye of the storm from which he must operate. According to the wizard, great things are to happen on the Coast of the Aurvandilean Sea. He prophesies a new nation will be born thereabouts and that we shall be known by the tracks we leave there.”

  “Ah, I see,” Onamingo said. “He lives in the camp of the Jywdic Tribe near where my friend, Turtle Duck, and his sons, Degataga and Redangus dwell. I shall send a message to Turtle Duck at Ur Ford and have him get me these wizard weapons. Now you were saying the Apache and Kanarus’ people cannot be taken in their stronghold. Do you speak correctly?”

  “I do, my chief. If the Pitters invade, the Ndee and Kanarus’ people, the Kaninchens, all will hole up in the Chiracahua Mountains, and by all accounts, no enemy has ever returned who entered their land, for the Pitters cannot sustain a long battle in those arid mountain conditions into which Kanarus cleverly lures them. Meanwhile, Kanarus’ irregular fyrds wreak havoc on them by attacking their supply lines, hitting their camps in the night, and leading them into numerous ambushes. What Kanarus doesn’t destroy, the desert does. Our silver harriers tell us, that these losses have so drained the Pitter legions that they don’t intentionally engage the Kaninchens anymore and now go to great lengths trying to avoid them by sweeping down through the Mexus.”

  “Our brothers,” Mendaka declared, “the Ndee and Kanarus have created a very clever strategy that we would do well to repeat.”

  Snake Horse said, “They are blessed with defensible terrain. While we here must go into the Umpqua Wilderness if we should hope to ever defeat the Pitters.”

  Onamingo puzzled. “Your tales give us much to ponder. It shows us the course we must take. Mendaho has been trying to purify our language and has read to me from the Mountain Scrolls of my people. One of the grandfathers said the day will come when a new tribe shall arise out of the earth from the many colors, classes, and creeds. Perhaps, we here at the DiAhman and the Herewardi shall begin the new tribe.”

  Sur Sceaf nodded. “We Herewardi are prepared to offer our natural defenses to all three tribes.”

  “That is understood, and for that purpose we are to gather at the crater. It is better to have fewer bees in our hands and more honey in our mouths when we do. I go to prepare the hearts of the talking chiefs with the sweet message you bring.”

  Sur Sceaf elbowed Mendaka’s arm out of the way of the food dish he was busy emptying. He quickly forked out some piping hot morsels of venison from the plate, then scooped some hominy into a wooden bowl. He briefly turned the bread stick and had just begun to eat when he felt two cool hands cover his eyes followed by a lilting singsong female voice which crooned, “Guess whooo!”

  Sur Sceaf instantly recognized the voice of Mendaka’s wife, Little Doe, but chose to play the player. “I could never miss that voice,” he said with a long pause.

  “Who then?” Came the singsong voice. “Guess whooo!”

  “It is Mendaka’s fat sister!”

  Little Doe smacked Sur Sceaf on top of the head. He sprung up, and they hugged each other. He noticed she was as petite as when he saw her five winters ago. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with her usual bubbling cheerfulness and depth of long developed friendliness. The only time he remembered his always talkative blood-brother being silent was in the days of their youth when he was courting Little Doe.

  “By the shades of the Owl Spirit, Surrey, you have gotten even handsomer than you were before,” Little Doe said. “Even with this beaver pelt you grew on your chin.” Then she teased, “Some of you white men are as hairy as buffaloes.”

  “Well, you two have got to agree,” he laughed, “is it a beaver or a buffalo I sport on my chin?”

  “Surely it is a little of both, I think.” She gave a mischievous smile before giving a teasing tug on his beard.

  “Little Doe, it is so good to see your friendly face again,” Sur Sceaf responded with lifted brow.

  Onamingo quipped, “I see she has been busy keeping Mendaka happy and in good flesh. I think it’s time you challenge your blood-brother to a climb up Mount Youxlokes.”

  They laughed.

  Little Doe joined them. Mendaka scooted over to allow Little Doe a seat beside him.

  “Yes,” she said, “if he gets any fatter he’ll be bigger than his fat sister.” She grabbed a piece of bread from Mendaka’s plate, before telling Dancing Rabbit. “The children have all been fed, and Sparrow Hawk is kindly entertaining them in her tipi. She will join us when it’s time for the chief to take his leave. At the moment Goose Face and some of the younger braves are preparing the horses for those going to the crater.”

  Dancing Rabbit asked, “I hope you told them to add the vittles to the saddle bags?”

  “That was the first thing on my list.” She turned to Onamingo, “I know how much the chief likes his pemmican on the trail. I’ve given extra to Mendaka just in case.”

  “You may well jest,” Onamingo said, “but it was your man that the Lord Sur Sceaf had to fight for the last morsels of venison.”

  Little Doe laughed. “Surrey could use a little feeding up. He has a great task at hand.” She glanced at Sur Sceaf, “This is the best man, besides my husband, I have ever known. His heart is pure, his arms are strong, and his friendship is true to the core. You will find him so, Chief Onamingo.”

  Dancing Rabbit laughed, “Little Doe brags endlessly of what a wonderful man you are, Lord Prince Sur Sceaf. Now that I’ve met you I see that it is so. It is a great honor to welcome you to the house of Onamingo and the Camp of Eloheh.”

  Onamingo passed a filled plate of food over to Little Doe, who thanked him as she nestled into Mendaka. She turned to Sur Sceaf and said, “Surrey, I hope all is well at Namen Jewell. I still think of all the friends I miss there. Since it’s been twelve moons of the weaning of her last child, Shining Moon’s mother tells me she is hoping for another child.”

  He laughed. “That is what I hear also. All send their blessings. Paloma sends you some herbs, which I have in my saddlebags. As for the children, they are thriving. Arundel has arrived at manhood, and Brekka is Brekka, as bright and warlike as ever and leaving maidenhood way too fast for her mother and me. Swan Hilde has found some new apples growing at Tom’s Folly, which you’ll have to ge
t a graft off of when next you come.

  “And the other wives?”

  “Faechild just gave birth to a girl, and Milka is due next moonth. The rest are engaged in the usual education of the children, their passion plays, and regular chores. When last I was at my father’s house at Witan Jewell they all enjoyed your stay and told me to tell you they sorely miss your company. The king and my mother told me they would gladly welcome your sojourn should you ever elect to visit again.” He laughed, “Of course, the children are still telling Mendaka’s jokes to their friends.

  Little Doe inquired, “How is dear Mo Mo Redith?”

  “Mo Mo Redith is as fit as a fox.”

  Sur Sceaf inquired about the old ones he used to know in the Camp of Eloheh, and found that many had passed on through the veil and into the Summer Lands. Conversations flowed easily like the nearby stream. Histories of Sur Sceaf’s family, and battle stories about the Pitters filled the time. When everyone had finished eating, Onamingo rose and said, “I see the girls and Going Snake have come back with the beads and Sparrow Hawk. I should be making my way to the Crater of the Elk Spirit soon.” Onamingo signed for his daughters, Sparrow Hawk and Taneshewa, to join them along with his granddaughters who eagerly gathered around him. The little girls cast curious looks at Sur Sceaf as they clustered about their grandfather. The warmth in the chief’s eyes reminded him of the endearing looks Sur Spear always gave his grandchildren. “Alright, my little chipmunks,” Onamingo said, laughingly, “it’s time for me to say goodbye to you before I leave. You girls take good care of Grandma and help Ahy with preparations for the pow wow.”

  After the chief hugged his granddaughters, Sparrow Hawk and Taneshewa claimed theirs along with Going Snake. Then each in turn took turns hugging Mendaka.

  The little girls surrounded Sur Sceaf.

  Blooms Alone shot him a curious look, then inquired, “Lord Sur Sceaf, I notice that you no longer wear the shirt you rode in with last evening.” She smiled mischievously and her sisters giggled.

  Dancing Feather said, “Is it because it is too hot here for you?”

  Three Doves said, “Maybe Fur Puller grabbed his shirt like he did with Taneshewa’s.”

  Before Sur Sceaf could craft a tactful answer, Mendaka interjected. “No,” Mendaka laughed, “I heard from Going Snake that the Lord Prince Sur Sceaf left his tipi with his shirt on, but he ran into Taneshewa on a path this morning. And well, I’ll leave the rest of it to your imaginations.”

  The others glanced at each other in amusement. Red-faced, Taneshewa swatted Mendaka in the head with her bead bag.

  “Dak, I could tell a tale or two about you. I would suggest you sew your lips shut now.”

  Onamingo laughed loud enough to be heard two camps away and his granddaughters giggled. Dinner had relaxed the chief so that he was feeling more comfortable with Sur Sceaf. The young girls continued to study the white man as quite the curiosity. The youngest, Dancing Feather, looked like a smaller version of Taneshewa.

  Sur Sceaf exaggerated a groan, “I fear the tale of the shirt has taken on a life of its own. When next I return, no doubt, I shall be as guilty as Fur Puller.”

  Little Doe declared, “Have no fear, I shall always defend your honor.”

  Sur Sceaf genuflected, took Little Doe’s hand, and placed it to his brow. “That is why you are my ever faithful friend.”

  Mendaka said, “If I did not know the character of my blood-brother, I should be afraid to leave my wife here with a man so celebrated in his own land as a lover.” As the others laughed, Taneshewa bore a stern frown.

  Onamingo checked the sky. “I fear we must leave now.” He held his hands out for the ritual farewell.

  Everyone grew stone still and silent. Only the background noises of the lake, the forest, the drumming in the distance, and the gentle soughing of the pines overhead could be heard. One by one Onamingo stared at each individual present for the space of the long silence. Then he studied Sur Sceaf, the same way Redith did when she was reading his aura. He could feel the chief’s energy and found it powerful, compelling, and benign. Sur Sceaf noted how he presented as old, wise, and spiritual with such a penetrating glance. He could not measure the time Onamingo studied him in silence while the three sisters, Going Snake, and all the others stood reverently and quietly, but he knew no man could ever hold his breath for that length of time.

  Just as he felt he could no longer sustain the piercing eye of the chief, Onamingo nodded and said, “I know what really happened. It is a good omen that you should shield my daughter from shame. I can see you are puzzled by Taneshewa’s rejection, but don’t concern yourself with that. All will be revealed in time. The Great Spirit confirms it in here.” He smote his breast with the palm of his hand. “The Great Spirit also prompts me that it is time we start teaching our peoples more about each other, our various peculiarities, and teaching them to tolerate each other’s differences.” He stared in silence at Taneshewa, who looked down at the ground.

  “What did you have in mind?” Sur Sceaf asked in an effort to save Taneshewa from that discerning stare.

  “First off, I will ask all the Sharaka, who have dwelt either among the Hyrwardi or the Quailor, and all the half-breeds and Quants, to tell of their experiences. It is important we begin these stories today, so as to prepare the way. But now is the time for my farewell.”

  Rapid horse hooves could be heard approaching the camp, drawing the attention of everyone present. Emerging from the cover of trees a red-haired, Sharaka youth galloped towards them on his painted pony. He stopped beside Mendaka and dismounted. “Forgive me, Onamingo, I tried to make it back on time to wish you good journey, but was stalking an elk all morning.”

  “Did you get him?” Onamingo asked.

  “I brought him down with three arrows,” the young brave declared proudly. “He’s a seven pointer.”

  “Then you are forgiven.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I gutted him and left Shell-Toad there to scare off predators. I need to borrow Thunder Horse’s mule to haul it back.”

  “Well, Dancing Rabbit, I see you shall be well cared for by Redelfis, entertained by the Lord Prince Sur Sceaf, and well-informed by Little Doe. May my daughter and Sur Sceaf come to understand one another and may peace and harmony prevail over our camp. For now, Mendaka and I shall go to the crater that we may be known by the tracks we leave there.”

  Chapter 6: Sagawis the Sagacious Hag

  After Taneshewa had said goodbye to her father, Mendaka and his party, she gave her purse to Blooms Alone then stormed down to the Unequa Stream. Sur Sceaf’s heart still pounded as he watched her disappear into the moonless night. Everything in this woman served to arouse greater attraction in him, even that fiery temper of hers. Little Doe had been right; he was known as a lover, but more than that he had great affection and respect for all women. As a father of daughters, he believed he understood them better than most men, but for the first time, this woman had thrown him completely off the trail. He not only had to admit inwardly that she was very stirring to him, but the very spirit, the flame of the Ur Fyr burned hot in him whenever she was near. Although the Ur Fyr had yet to clarify, he was sure that he had once shared a great love with this woman before the foundations of the Ea-Urth were laid. His soul declared they knew one another intimately, and he felt that she knew it as well. If he closed his eyes, he could feel her arms around him. But if this was genuine, why was she so reticent? He decided to turn his attention to Little Doe, Sparrow Hawk, and the children. He took in a deep breath and exhaled the tension Ahy had stirred up in him.

  The dishes were finally cleared away. Going Snake had built up the fire against the encroaching chill of the new moon night. Dancing Rabbit served the children a warm sassafras and maitake tea. Traditionally, it was the time of storytelling before bedtime. Sparrow Hawk invited Sur Sceaf to stay and participate. He realized it was a great honor to be included in a family ritual and accepted with pleasure.


  As Blooms Alone settled herself on one of the mats, she glanced down the trail and said to Sur Sceaf, “I have never seen Taneshewa so angry, she stomped your shirt like it was a snake about to strike her. What did you do that made her so mad?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. I only have the highest of respect and regards for her and cannot think of what caused such a reaction.”

  Sparrow Hawk motioned the others to be seated for the story telling time and sat down near Sur Sceaf, Going Snake, and Little Doe. She said, “I apologize for my sister’s rudeness, Lord Sur Sceaf. Something must be deeply troubling her. She has not been herself lately and it concerns us all. But I’ve never seen her act this way to a guest before.”

  Dancing Feather raised her eyebrows high and said, “Weren’t you listening, Bloomy? Ahy said, it’s cause Sur Sceaf already has a wife.”

  Sparrow Hawk turned to Sur Sceaf, “Is that true? Were you toying with my sister when you already have a wife?”

  “Yes,” Sur Sceaf said, “I am honorably married. It is as the chief said, there are differences in our cultures and one of those differences is how we view marriage.”

  Little Doe leaped in and said, “This is a discussion for another time when the children aren’t present.”

  Sparrow Hawk nodded. “I agree, Little Doe,” she then turned to the children, “Ahy has obviously aroused your curiosity about our white guest. You asked me what a Hyrwardi is. Here is one come to our camp. Lord Sur Sceaf, would you tell my daughters who the Hyrwardi are?”

  “Certainly.” Sur Sceaf heaved a sigh of relief. He smiled at Dancing Feather then back at Sparrow Hawk. “We Herewardi, believe we are the children of the elves. In fact we are elves, who simply have not yet fully progressed in our seed code. As man is, elves once were. And as elves are, man may one day become.”

 

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