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

by Russ L. Howard

  “How many times do I have to hear that? Why don’t I just bare my bosom for Surrey’s knife and let him have at it, just let him eat my heart right out? Is that what you want? Is that what you are telling me to do?”

  Mendaho held up her hands and said, “Hey, don’t get mad at me, I’m just answering your questions. Do you want to hear the answers or not?”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s been a very upsetting day, Meny.”

  Meny stood up, “Ahy, you look exhausted. I think you need sleep before we talk more. I suspect you might have a lot of questions. If you do, you know where to find me.”

  * * *

  Upon arriving at the spot at Woondigo Pass where the elk was slain, Sur Sceaf and Going Snake found that the fire had nearly burned out and that Shield-Toad was lying next to it fast asleep with a blanket up over his shoulders and his head on a log. They stoked the fire. The elk still lay where it had fallen, the blood from Redelfis’ cut along the neck was now congealed. Redelfis kicked Shield-Toad in the side.

  Going Snake gave a giggle. “Ahy says Shield-Toad could sleep through his own funeral.”

  Shield-Toad jumped up. “What? What’s happening?”

  “Obviously nothing! You didn’t even bother to string up the elk.”

  Shield-Toad groaned. “You said to just watch it and I wasn’t about to mess up the hide.”

  “You weren’t watching. You were sleeping. You let the fire burn down and a bear or cougar could have easily taken it. You didn’t even hear us coming up. Ja hear me? You’re just lucky a cougar didn’t get you. Honestly, Shield Toad, you are my friend, but until you overcome your laziness, you will never be a brave.”

  While Shield-Toad and Redelfis strung up the elk, Sur Sceaf searched nearby for a large smooth rock. Beginning at the neck, he rolled the hide on to the stone. With each turn of the stone, the hide pulled off the red carcass as easy as slipping off a sock.

  Going Snake declared, “That’s the biggest elk I’ve ever seen, Delfi.”

  “It’s a big one, alright.” Redelfis ordered, “Shield-Toad, just get the packs ready.”

  As the hide rolled off, inch-by-inch, Sur Sceaf asked, “Redelfis, what do you know of this Taneshewa?”

  Redelfis shook his long red hair, which ran down his back to his shoulder blades as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm. Sur Sceaf was always shocked that he looked so Sharaka in every feature save only his bright red hair.

  “Ah ha,” he said. “So you have met the Morning Star, Ahy, have you? Like all of us you must have felt a surge of the heart and the loins at the same time.”

  “A surge of heart and loins, yes, but far more. I felt a surge of the Ur Fyr.”

  “I should have known, a man of your level of holiness would perceive the ways of the Spirit.”

  Shield-Toad chewed on a piece of raw meat as he laughed and spoke with his mouth full. “Goina try and ride the wild pony, are we?”

  “I have met her. As slender and tight fitting as a weasel. And beauty she is, but more feisty than a cornered mink.”

  Redelfis laughed. “My eyes never tire of watching her either. We’ve all attempted to win her favor. Wounded Bear broke his arm trying to impress her with his tree walking. Then that bastard Standing Bull from the Klamath Tribe, ruined it for all of us. He’s hurt many young girls that way. Older girls know better than to be with the likes of him. Probably why the Klamath Tribe sent him off to fend on his own. They’d had enough.”

  Sur Sceaf began tugging at the hide, pealing it from the elk’s legs like one would pull the pants off of a drunken brave. “I am shocked she would take up with someone that by his very actions is so criminal.”

  “Yes, we all heard how you gave him his due in the woods when he tried to extort the communiqué from you. Saw the sword welt across his face, too. Can you believe he tried to pass it off as a whack from a tree branch. Seems you thumped him good. Hah!”

  Sur Sceaf could not prevent his smile of satisfaction from ruling his face. “He fashions himself a warrior, but he’s a mere brute.”

  “You’ve got that right. He’s an overgrown bully, who never grew up. About two winters ago just after Taneshewa’s Green Corn Ceremony, she went and fell in love with the bastard, but that did not end well. It was the talk of the village. Everyone was shocked at her unusual behavior, and the unmaidenly things she started doing.”

  He felt a pang and a moment of disbelief as he and Redelfis tugged the last of the legs free. “Like what, Redelfis?”

  “Some of the nosy old hags got to seeing Taneshewa sneaking into Bull’s tent late at night and not leaving till just before morning’s light. Then she’d try to ease back into her own tipi, but her mother was no fool, and knew what was really happening. T’were’nt no use in her trying to hide it, with her neck all black and blue from those sucking kisses he’d give her.” Redelfis laughed. “We all expected them to marry, but after six seasons it all went to hell faster than a torch in water.”

  Sur Sceaf rolled the hide up and tied it to the front of Redelfis’ mule.

  Redelfis pulled out his own knife.

  Going Snake said, “Let me do some of the cutting. Father taught me how.”

  Sur Sceaf said, “Shield-Toad, would you lend Going Snake your knife?”

  Shield-Toad didn’t look happy, but he drew his knife and handed to the boy.

  Sur Sceaf paused for a moment to make sure Going Snake knew what he was doing before asking Redelfis, “You said it didn’t end well between them. What happened?” He asked as he pulled out his knife and began severing tendons.

  Redelfis dropped a piece of elk meat into the oiled rawhide basket. “It happened like this; one time she snuck over to Bull’s tent and found that silly girl, Skin’s-A-Cat, riding him hotter than a jack rabbit. Ahy was powerfully angry, punched him square in the mouth, pulled his hair, drove his horse off, and slashed his tent up. He fled off into the woods for several weeks after that.”

  Sur Sceaf couldn’t help laughing.

  “It was funny, but Sur Sceaf, Ahy’s a wild cat. Once you kindle her wrath, you’re the target of her words. And she has some sharper than a porcupine’s quill.”

  Sur Sceaf couldn’t help feeling admiration for her fiery nature. “I got lucky, I only got the words, no fists.”

  “Jumping weasels, you’ve only been here for one day, Sur Sceaf.”

  “You know I have many wives and as far as I can figure, that seems to be what infuriated her.” Sur Sceaf thought a moment. “Although, come to think of it, I don’t think I mentioned more than one, but given what you’ve told me, I can see why even one wife would be too much.” He pondered for a moment. “Now, at least, I understand why she came at me like a cat out of the fire.”

  “So what are you going to do with this cat that has sunk her claws into you? Give up?”

  “No! Never. I cannot give up. I’ve heard about being struck by a thunderbolt all my life. This morning I was hit and hit hard. The Ur Fyr burned in me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. When the gods speak, I have learned to listen. I can’t give up on her even if I have to march through Pitter legions to get to her.”

  “Was it Ur Fyr or lust speaking to you?” Redelfis asked as he dropped another strip of meat into the basket. “After all, you are getting up in years. What are you, same as Dad, thirty three?”

  “We Herewardi do not consider age the barrier most of you Sharaka do, but I can tell you, it was Ur Fyr without a doubt. I learned very young how to distinguish and the consequences of not listening are too dear to pay. Taneshewa and I have been fated for each other. Our hearts had elsewhere their birthing, but they beat as one whether she knows it or not.”

  * * *

  Taneshewa said, “I thought the Swan was an emblem of purity. How dare Prince Sur Sceaf liken himself to such a noble bird.”

  Mendaho sighed, “Perhaps you should understand that the swan is holy and means many things to the Hyrwardi. It is not only their totem animal, but
even the Thunder Horse prophesied that when the Pitter Eagle Standard appears on the Coast of the Great Deep at Maiden Head, the day will soon follow it when the swan slays it.”

  Taneshewa looked squarely at Meny. “I’m not talking about the Hyrwardi as a people. I’m talking about the Lord Prince Sur Sceaf,” she said with a flourishing wave of the back of her hand. “If you ask me, this Shooter or Archer, as you say they called him, is no different than a stallion in rut; no different from Standing Bull. It does not speak well for his culture if they allow such promiscuity.”

  “On the contrary, Ahy, in the Hyrwardi culture a man like Standing Bull would be considered an outcast. What they call a Besmieren, whereas Sur Sceaf is truly worthy of honor.”

  “Whatever does that mean?”

  “It means Standing Bull is an abuser of women or children because he was only out for himself and gave no care for love or what hurt he would cause you when you found his love had no roots. I will put it on a more personal level for you. The Hyrwardi teach that the swan is a god-animal. Let me explain why Sur Sceaf would never bring you shame. You see, the Hyrwardi teach that we are all god-animals, and we have to learn to balance lust and spirit by feeling comfortable with both those natures in a way that injures no one. Their very culture is calculated to bring about this perfect harmony.”

  “Love and lust be brought into balance? I don’t think so. Aren’t they opposites?”

  “No, not when in balance. It’s like fire and ice. When it’s cold outside you would freeze to death without a fire in your tipi. In the tipi you are cozy and warm. That is balance, but if the fire becomes too great it would consume you and the tipi, so you don’t allow that. You watch and balance the fire with the cold outside of it.”

  “I certainly don’t think it’s balanced for a man to have more than one wife like the Hyrwardi do. Do you?”

  “Ahy, your band of Sharaka have not had the exposure to the Hyrwardi that ours has. We understand them far better. It does not seem strange to me anymore, because I have known so many Hyrwardi and they are a good-hearted lot. You would have to see them with all their wives and children to see that it works well for them. Be careful about passing judgment on matters that you know nothing about.”

  Taneshewa felt her hackles go up, “You are starting to sound like the white lord,” then realized Mendaho was her best friend, and was at least trying to reveal the true picture to her. She thought for a moment then said, “But doesn’t it bother the Hyrwardi women that their man is sleeping with another woman.”

  “It doesn’t bother Shining Moon, because everyone she knows is doing the same thing. From what I’ve seen, their marriages are as happy as the ones I’ve seen here. She says she wants for her sisters what she wants for herself and that it’s not about equality, but about equity.” Mendaho grinned, “To tell you the truth, Ahy, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to marrying Surrey, a swan lord of king’s blood, and becoming his number seven. I think you are lover-stunned by Surrey. But unable to respond, because at best, you’re still a girl on fire.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You haven’t healed from Standing Bull yet. That’s your problem. You burn with rage and a hatred of all men, to the point it blinds you to the glory of the swan lord. Yet I perceive you wallowed in his charms like a bee drunken on a magnolia blossom.”

  “Swan lord or not, drunken with his charms or not,” Taneshewa said with her arms crossed tightly across her breast, “I won’t be sharing my man.”

  * * *

  It was approaching sunrise with dappled sunlight and rays piercing the forest canopy as Sur Sceaf walked up to the tipi of Sagwi in the peaty smelling air. The dark of night was fading fast. The tipi looked just like it did many years ago with perhaps a little more patina showing on the hides. A mural of an owl with a serpent coiled under its feet still shone brightly painted on the north side of the tipi. He walked to the door facing east and called out, “Sagwi. Sagwi.” and made an owl sound, “Hoo! Hoo!”

  “Who dhat makin like a owl out der?” A familiar and husky voice asked.

  “It’s me, Surrey.”

  “You good for nuthin snake, playin tricks on an old woman like dhat. Get in here where I’s can see ya.”

  Sur Sceaf lifted the flap of the tipi, placed a bag of fresh elk meat at her feet, and entered to a well-lit interior with herbs of every sort hanging from leather thongs above his head. He stood up inside and said, “By the rings of the oak, it’s my favorite mo mo sis.”

  She spread her arms out as Sur Sceaf hugged her. “I’s yo only mo-mo-sis! My Surrey, come to be wif his aunt and done brought me some fresh elk meat. Oh, how I’s missed you. It’s been way too long.”

  “Well, I believe we’ll soon be seeing a lot more of each other, Mo Mo Sis.”

  “And dhat makes me da happiest of all.” Besides her grey hair, Sagwi still reminded him of the little fat-cheeked dolls that Sharaka mothers gave their babies. She even reminded him of a plump little duck, and he loved her like a nigh-mother.

  Sur Sceaf said, “Well, how are you feeling these days, Sagwi?”

  “Fit as a whistle and happy as a bear in a berry patch.”

  Sagwi proffered him sweet breads and nut breads, which she had been preparing for her morning. As they had done many times before, they sat around the interior fire, banked with stones to keep it contained. Between bites of bread and sips of matsutaki tea, Sagwi recounted the history that had transpired since he had left ten winters before. Then Sur Sceaf told Sagwi his plans, what the council had come up with, and why he was there. Sagwi was just expressing her approval when she was interrupted by laughing and talking voices from outside.

  Sur Sceaf’s heart skipped a beat when he thought he recognized the distinct voice of Taneshewa.

  “Yoo Hoo! Sagwi. May we enter?”

  Sagwi beamed with pleasure. “Ah, it’s Meny, ‘member her? She one of my favorite girls.”

  “I saw Meny on my way into camp.” He grew nervous at the thought of another confrontation with Taneshewa.

  “Well, she ain’t changed a bit.” Then Sagwi called out, “Come in girls, come in.”

  The flap pushed open revealing Meny’s head and shoulders. “Oh,” Mendaho said, her expression brightened, “we didn’t know you had company.” Meny entered. “How are you Surrey? It’s been awhile. I didn’t recognize you as the Shooter last night with that buffalo beard you’re wearing these days. I suppose it won’t be long before you sprout horns being the magical beast you are. You handsome devil!” Meny stretched forth her hand and lightly tweaked his beard.

  Sur Sceaf laughed, feigned pain, and gave her a bear-hug. Over her shoulder he saw Taneshewa entering like a panther in motion with one foot placed cat-like directly before the other. His blood warmed, and his heart galloped. It was all he could do to not show his approval.

  Sur Sceaf released Meny and asked, “Well, just what kind of magical beast did you mean, Meny?”

  “Isn’t that obvious. A white stag with a large rack of antlers, of course.”

  Again everyone, but Taneshewa, laughed.

  Taneshewa turned to Sagwi, “If we’re interrupting something, we can come back later.”

  Sagwi shook her head. “Don’t you even go thinkin’ such, girl. Now you get seated, pours yerself some taki tea, and tells us what ju come for.”

  Taneshewa grabbed two mugs and began pouring from the pot that was still on the coals. “We just found out that Rolling Thunder broke his arm in a rock slide while mustering ponies for the crater trip, and since Walking Turtle has gone to the coast, we need a replacement for the Sun Ring in the Rite of the Eclipse. That’s why we come to you this early in the morning to see what you’d suggest.”

  Meny said, “You always come up with the right solution for any problem.”

  “Ju don’t need me, da spirits done gib you da answer.” She patted Sur Sceaf on the knee. “Here sits Surrey. He’d be mighty glad to helps ya’ll.”

  Taneshewa fr
owned and gave Sur Sceaf a dark look. “I don’t know,” she said, “I mean no offense, but Rolling Thunder was the foremost wrestler in the community. You have to be strong for this role. Besides, we’ll be hanging five man heights up, and it takes a while to get used to the rings. You have to be really strong.”

  Sur Sceaf felt a little unease at the mention of the heights, but was determined to prove himself worthy of any feat Taneshewa would devise to test him.

  “We ain’t got time to run no wrestling contest. Surrey be’d da one, I knows it. Lessin yo want Standin Bull.”

  “I’d be honored to fill in,” Sur Sceaf said quickly. “That is, if it would be helpful?”

  Mendaho laughed, “Don’t worry Ahy, when I was but a maid I saw Surrey kill a bull elk with no weapon. He broadsided it, then suffocated it with bee pollen. Everyone was amazed there was not a single mark on its hide. If he can do that, he can surely do the rings.”

  Taneshewa lifted her mug to her lips and gave him a challenging look through the steam that was still rising. “Very well, Lord Prince Sur Sceaf, will you join us by noon at the bridge behind Mendaka’s tipi for the practice?”

  Sur Sceaf smiled, reveling in the thoughts of being near Taneshewa. “Consider it done.”

  Taneshewa drained her mug. “Then our duty is done here. We shall go make preparations.”

  Sagwi raised her hand, “Wait a moment. Yous only got jo knives, Thunder Horse done said dher’s a rogue mountain lion prowling near hear. Might be a shape-shifter.”

  Sur Sceaf stood up and said, “Please, allow me to escort you back.”

  “By Tah-Man-Ne-Ea,” Mendaho exclaimed, “you are wearing a medicine belt. Never have I known one to be given to anyone but the most elderly and honored of men.”

  “It was given to me by Thunder Horse, but I don’t fully understand why.”