Witan Jewell

by Russ L. Howard

  “Dhat be your ‘cision girl, but I dhink you be likin some of dhem clothes. Just like my sister, Redith, she wear bof dem clothes. Sometimes buckskin, sometimes silk or wool. One ting is for sure, if’n you be marryin Lord Surrey, you won’t be makin much of yo own clothes.”

  “I haven’t fully made up my mind yet, but I think I’m getting close.”

  “No,” Sagwi said, “But I done seen you ride in wif dhat man for we started da trek again. You been up to High Top, ain’t ju.”

  “Yes, but I think I’ve pulled the logs off his fire. I just had to lay it all out for him to see. He keeps pushing. He thinks all he has to do is ask and I’ll say yes. He is asking me to make all the changes and he hasn’t made any for me and as far as I can see he doesn’t see the need to make any.”

  She finished tying her moccasin. The women got up together, and headed back for the camp. They hailed Thunder Horse who passed them in his wagon. As Taneshewa watched her wagon being driven by Going Snake, she noticed a wobbly wheel. She resolved she would have Herman take a look at that too.

  Sagwi picked their conversation back up. “I’s remember a tale when I’s a youngin. Der was dis chipmunk what wanted to marry a flyin squirrel. Dhey done fell in love wif one anover and he’d bring her nuts from up in dha trees and she’d bring him berries fum dha forest floor. Dhey gets married and dhen dhey can’t decide where dhey’s sposed to live. She wanted to make her nest in dha rocks underground and he’s be wantin to make it high in a hollow branch.”

  Over the years Taneshewa had heard many of Sagwi’s tales, but had never heard this one.

  “So what did they do?”

  “Dhey moved to a nest high in da rocks on a cliff above da forest and lived cozy happy lives togever.”

  Taneshewa thought for a minute. “So, we both have to make changes.”

  “Yeah, dhat’s it. If you be lovin each other, makin a change won’t be no burden at all.”

  “I do love him, that can’t be helped. I just have to love all his other wives and so far I only know the one.”

  “And what ju tink bout her?”

  “She’s nice, she’s thoughtful, she is without guile. I really like her,” Taneshewa admitted. “But you know his other wives, what are they all like?”

  “Well, I’s liked dem all. Dhey’s a bunch of good women, dhey are. And dhat der Miss Boss, she a fine woman. She be just like a daughter to my sista, Redith. She treated me right nice too. When I’s visiting dhem.”

  “What do you mean, Miss Boss? Margot, the Black woman?”

  “No. No. You know she’s da Miss Boss, oh what ju be callin it, Paloma, da faery-mother.”

  “Is that what they call her, Miss Boss?”

  “No, dhat be what I’s callin her. She so nice and she just be takin charge like a war chief tellin everbody what dher is to do. I guess she be more like Grand Mother Wisdom, but she mighty pretty like da Buffalo Woman.”

  “Surrey just told me, there has to be an interview and an examination to see if I am worthy to be in their bride troupe. I have to think about that. I mean, what do they do? Will they hold me down and check for my virginity? If they do, I’m already burnt bread.”

  “Child I sure hope you don’t be tinkin such. Truf is, I don’t know what dhey be doin.” Sagwi said, “You need talk to Lana bout dhat one.”

  “That’s what Sur Sceaf said I should do. Not knowing is what is killing me the most, Sagwi.”

  Sagwi reached into her medicine bag that she always wore strung over her shoulder and gave a small bundle of yarrow to Taneshewa. “Put dis under yo pillow tonight and you will be dreamin bout da man you’ll marry. If it’s meant to be Lord Surrey he will be in yo dream.”

  “What if he’s not the one?”

  Sagwi said, “We done been through all dis. It’s time to yield to what’s trying to happen, child. Just be memberin’ when ju’s doin yo thinkin, put it in jo mind that you’s marryin a family not just a man.”

  * * *

  After the camps were all secured, Sur Sceaf grabbed a lantern, and walked up into a favorite haunt of his known as Ramp Canyon, just above Deer Creek. As he climbed the hills of the canyon the fog dissipated and there was clear sky above, but he could still see the blanket of fog lying below him. Distant pin pricks of camp fires burned below and the moon shone bright with only one unique cloud nearby. Everything had the strangest feeling as if it had been choreographed by the gods. He pulled out his gold medallion, the ancient Amerikan minted coin. This commission is coming to fruition. He thought on how difficult he had initially believed it was going to be, and now he had learned confidence in himself, his friends, and the gods. He could rest in the knowledge that he had completed the final leg of the journey and could fully immerse himself in Yule. The thrill that he would soon be joined by his beloved wives and children bubbled up in him like an artesian spring.

  Kneeling down he placed his lantern on a nearby rock and reached into his rucksack for his medicine pouch which contained the usual ritual items. He placed the candle, quartz, wool, and honeycomb on their respective points of the compass then dug a hole on the fourth for the quartz. He sat in the center of the circle cross-legged, facing the east. He reflected on his mistakes of making Standing Bull an enemy, going off alone into the high desert without a fyrd, and knew he had to act less passionately and impulsively in the future. He needed to start counting the costs and assessing the risks of every decision. Finally, he reflected on the many blessings, first and foremost, meeting Taneshewa, secondly meeting the wayfarer and his ravens, third the mild autumn and the strange protective cloud that followed their exodus, somehow tempering the weather. He lit the candle, got into position and began speaking the centuries old ritual as passed down from the Longfather Howrus.

  “Oak, magnolia, and thorn, into Baldur’s light you are born. Oh, Elf Lords and Elf Ladies, hear the words of my mouth. Elf Father, Elf Mother, Elf Sister, and Elf Brother, make my heart’s desires come to pass. I give thanks unto you oh gods who love me, for helping me to complete my commission safely up unto this point. I thank you for my deliverance from the ring pit and for preserving me in the battle against the Pitters. I thank you for guiding me in resolving the problems of these different tribes and I beseech you to help me meld them into a cohesive alliance. I call upon you to reveal any potential problems and to give me a wise and understanding heart. And above all, I give you thanks for preserving my family and their support of me through the false accusations. I give you thanks for the wombs which bore my children, and bless each one of them with the righteous desires of their hearts and for their enduring service and love. I praise you for these loyal, intelligent, and beautiful wives ye have endowed me with. Make me worthy of their great love. I thank you for the spiritual candle ye have lighted under my feet with, and for the wool and increase of my flocks in my absence under Arundel’s hand, and I thank you for the community of my people symbolized by the sweetness of the honey bees.

  “Now, if it be written in the Leaf of Heaven, make it so on Ea-Urth below. Direct my feet and guide my tongue, school my heart and strengthen my arms to the task of winning Taneshewa to be my seventh wife. Let not our cords of love break, but make them to endure till the end of times and beyond.

  “Wick, wool, wax, and womb. Guide me safely through my doom. May the gods of my Fathers shape it so.”

  Sur Sceaf blew out the candle and reflected. As much as he loved her, he was still annoyed that Taneshewa had refused to give him a direct answer. As he sat there under the sheen of the moonlit madrones, he thought, What is this about going to her parents to ask their permission? Of course Onamingo will allow me to marry his daughter. I’ve done everything she’s wanted. How could she ask for a better husband? Surely, there could be no objections? Shouldn’t that be permission enough? Everyone else can see that we belong together, why can’t she. After all, most men in her tribe will think of her as damaged goods for giving up her virginity... Damnit, I shouldn’t even allow myself to think
such things about the woman I love,that’s not the kind of man I want to be. But how long will she string me along?

  It will be humiliating to have no answer before entering Witan Jewell when news has already traveled there announcing that I am seeking a seventh bride. Is she simply tormenting me before saying “no” as payment for keeping Lana a secret all that time. Damnit, I have got to know. Pyr would know the answer to this.

  He gathered his materials, put them back in his ruck sack, glanced up at the sky and saw that same strange cloud hovering overhead only to witness a chain of lightning issue from it with a roar that was close to deafening and realized he better get back to camp.

  * * *

  By the time he reached Pyrsyrus’ camp it was dark, damp, and foggy again. As always the tent was a reflection of Pyrsyrus’ regal personality. The smell of cooking and mingling aromas filled the heavy air. Pyr’s camp was well lit, orderly, and clean, with liveried servants coming and going. The white tent with golden tassels glowed from the interior candlelight. Next to his father, this brother was his mentor, whom he deeply respected and loved. From childhood, Pyrsyrus had always given the wisest and best course of action. Sur Sceaf marveled at how he governed with such relative ease. Everything seemed to just flow to him in what appeared to be an effortless, marvelous order because he meticulously thought of everything. Despite his efforts to imitate Pyrsyrus’ kingship, things had been chaotic and disorderly along the journey. Unlike his bro, he had not yet subdued his passions. He also lacked in his wisdom. As Elfbeard used to tell him, ‘You’ve got a good heart, but lack restraint and wisdom.’ He was always confused as to how one was to obtain wisdom. He envied his father and brothers for so easily subduing their passions.

  As Sur Sceaf approached the main tent, he saw the conjugal tent was already set up and the ladies’ laughter could be heard from within it. He hoped he hadn’t come too late. The cooking area usually had their side of the tent open to the air. The cooks were busy stirring a large pot of stew and cutting up bread. Pyrsyrus had completed his bath and the servants were dumping the bath water from the large copper tub in a grassy area outside the campsite.

  Sur Sceaf entered through the ante chamber where he found Pyrsyrus in a robe, reading a dispatch from the Sand Wand Islands.

  “Hail Pyrsyrus! May I join you?”

  “Just waiting for my ladies to make themselves pretty for dinner and I was about to open my last keg of dark ale. Won’t you join me for a few drinks.”

  “If you don’t mind me in your tent, travel worn, and smelling like a horse.”

  Pyr laughed. “Of course not, I don’t have to sleep with you.” After sending the servant for the keg of ale, Pyrsyrus led him through the ante chamber and the dining area and back to the council chamber and bade him sit in a gilded chair.

  “So,” Pyr, said as he eased into the largest of the chairs, “You look surprisingly downcast for a man who has just successfully pulled off the most difficult assignment of your commission, the trek. Well done, my man.”

  “Thank you, Brother.” He stretched out his legs. “I’m just tired. It has been a very long nine moonths.”

  The servant brought in the keg of ale and poured a drink for both Pyrsyrus and Sur Sceaf. Then Pyr toasted, “Here’s to you, my faithful brother. I always knew you could do it. I’m right proud of you and I know Fa will be too.”

  Sur Sceaf raised his krug. “Here’s to the brother who has selflessly aided me in every major event in my life. I can never repay all the thanks and gratitude I bear for thee.”

  They drank deep. Pyr leaned back and stretched out his long legs. “So, Lana tells me you are going to have two new babies to bless when we return. Be sure to invite me to the behoodment.”

  “Paloma says they are both blooming little butter balls. Shining Moon reports her little boy is already turning over. All one needs to do to understand the benefits of plural marriage is to see all the advantages of having many mothers.”

  Pyr took a deep sip and looked Sur Sceaf straight on. “So how goes the wooing of the mink you’ve been courting? My wives have been expecting an announcement since the Battle of Woon Stone.”

  “I’ve never wanted something so much as I want Taneshewa, Pyr, but she’s like a sand trap. The more I reach for her the deeper I slide into the abyss.”

  Pyrsyrus chuckled, “Surrey, perhaps you are approaching her the wrong way.” He paused and appeared to be searching for the most diplomatic of words.

  “Please, Pyr, you don’t have to spare my feelings. I’ve accepted your wise advice since my youth. I value it above most any other counsel.”

  Pyr looked him square on and rumbled for a moment. “Hrum! You don’t see how arrogant and selfish you appear to her because you think you are courting a Herewardi woman, but you’re not. Think on your courtship of Lana. Like Lana, Ahy is from another world entirely, and although you share her blood, you do not share the social expectations of what she grew up with. Unless you are raised in it, it’s just too difficult to understand. What if she imposed her ways of demanding that you take only one wife?”

  Sur Sceaf frowned, “You are saying I’m the arrogant one when I’ve been the one to bend over backwards every step of the way so as not to shake the boat.”

  Pyr sighed. “Brother, I love you. You do have one of the best hearts I know, but you were raised a prince and you expect things to be given to you on demand for which other people have to work hard to attain. If you want more purr and less hiss, you need to woo this girl and win her by and by.”

  “Woo her! I thought that’s what I was doing!” Sur Sceaf exclaimed.

  “Yes, you’re wooing her by your definition, but not by hers. If I know you, and I do, you just told her how it’s supposed to be and then expected her to follow, but methinks in this case you need to let her set the pace. If she makes a request, no matter how irrational it might seem to you, learn to honor her wishes. You need to think long and hard to be absolutely certain you can give her what she thinks she needs or I promise you it will not go well with you. At least it will be far bumpier than it needs to be.

  Pyr tightened his silk robe and retied it. “Listen very carefully to what she is saying and don’t assume you know what she’s saying. I know it’s hard to admit we are selfish. It goes against the grain of being male, but it’s part of the responsibility of being a good husband. Father told me, ‘Never try to conquer a woman, rather learn how to surrender to them’.”

  Surrey downed the remainder of his ale and held out his krug for more. “She’s already got me hanging over a cliff. By my five wits and my five senses, how far should I go?”

  “Are you kidding? I have a wife I absolutely adore and she refuses me favor in bed, but I don’t think less of her, because I understand why. And because I understand, Swan Ray is even more precious to me in my sight.”

  The laughter of the ladies preceeded them as they entered the tent. Faewylf announced with a dramatic flurry, “My good and handsome man, your wives are sweet smelling and thirsty.”

  “I’m in the council chamber with Surrey, my faeries, come and help us drain this keg.” Then turning to Sur Sceaf he asked, “Would you care to join us for dinner?”

  “No, thank you,” Sur Sceaf said, “Lana is having an end of the trail dinner later tonight for me.” He drained his krug set it on the nearby table. “That was a hardy ale, Pyr, I needed that. I will take your counsel to heart, but I think it would be easier to be back in the ring pit and under that grinding stone, than to please Taneshewa.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind one more piece of advice, I think this Sharaka maiden is a pearl of the greatest price and you would be a damned fool to let your pride get in your way and not do everything in your power to win her.”

  He grinned mischievously, “Yes, your majesty, I will remember your words. Surrender!”

  He saluted his brother and exited out the other side of Pyr’s tent. He rode off to the Sharaka camp without a clear idea of why.

&
nbsp; It was as if Pyr’s counsel had cast some sort of a spell on him. Before him, around a campfire stood Onamingo, Dancing Rabbit, Mendaho, and Sagwi. Taneshewa was busy turning a brace of rabbits on the spit. She just looked good no matter what she was doing and he had to be careful to not stare too much. Her family always looked so cozy and welcoming.

  Sur Sceaf dismounted and tied Rekindler to the horse line, then walked over to the campfire where everyone stood in silent wonder.

  “Hail, Onamingo! Hail Dancing Rabbit!” Sur Sceaf cried out. “Hail my friends!”

  “Os-Frith,” Onamingo replied. “Do you come to sup with us, Surrey.”

  “No thank you.” He paused, “I am come to ask you and Dancing Rabbit for permission to take Taneshewa to be my bride. I promise to forever remain faithful to her and to honor her as my queen.”

  He was not expecting Dancing Rabbit to burst into tears. Even Mendaho looked a bit confused. Onamingo just stared in a powerful silence while Sagwi contented herself to smile. Taneshewa seemed as much surprised as he was.

  Sur Sceaf turned to her. “What is it, Ahy? Have I violated some code? I thought this is what you wanted.”

  “It is what I wanted,” Taneshewa said softly, “Our love is no secret to anyone in our tribe, but I was not expecting you to ask them yet. My parents must now give you answer. I don’t know how they will respond.”

  “Be patient, daughter and you shall know,” Onamingo chided before turning back to Sur Sceaf, “I know the Herewardi ways, Sagwi and Thunder Horse have told me many of them. I know that your wives must first give their approval. I have the greatest of respect for you, as does my wife. Although she has a hard time grasping the Herewardi ways, we have known you would marry Taneshewa now for some time. Not just because you two dallied and courted one another--”

  “Please,” Dancing Rabbit interjected, “Let me tell it, husband.” She paused for a moment still wiping away tears. “Long ago as our people made their trek to join the Band of Thunder Horse, we got lost in the wilderness of the Arid Zone. It was a desert without end, under a raging sun, and we being from a well-watered land were unaccustomed to desert travel and began to faint and came close to perishing.”