Witan Jewell

by Russ L. Howard

  Taneshewa laughed. “To be honest, my first instinct is to run. As you say, it is a bit overwhelming. First the children rushed us like a herd of buffalo and then the troupe of wives appeared like the Parade of Goddesses in the deck of catechism cards. I must confess, my heart leaped with strange emotions when I saw him doting on all these women, but it’s starting to settle down a bit now. By the time he kissed the third wife, I think I had become numb.”

  Lana nodded. “I am glad thou art so honest Ahy. It’s best to go into this with both eyes wide open. Then once thou art in, it’s best to keep thine eyes closed.” They laughed and held each others hands.

  Taneshewa smiled. “That’s the same counsel I heard my father once give to a young married couple. If I can liken it to something Sharaka, but finding myself in the middle of your family is as confusing as being in the middle of a lacrosse game.”

  A quick glance at a group of maidens laughing soon revealed Ilkchild was in their midst entertaining them with tales of his travels.

  “Usually, on occasions like this” Lana explained, “we farm the kids out to one another or to the older kids, but they are all too excited to see their father. Then thou canst imagine how anxious the bride-sisters are to see their man again after so long. Nine moonths can seem forever. Somebody’s bed is going to be set on fire tonight.”

  Taneshewa managed to suppress a wince. “How is it determined who gets Surrey tonight. Does he just pick one?”

  Lana laughed. “Now that would cause some problems. We draw colored sticks. Shining Moon drew the bride stick for tonight. I chose not to draw a stick, because I have had Surrey all to myself for so long. And besides, I miss my dear children. If someone contests the drawing, which is only allowed when our husband has been gone so long, a die is cast and Surrey may find himself sleeping with three different wives tonight.” She must have shown shock on her face because Lana further clarified. “Of course, they’re all alone with him on their turn.”

  “Makes Surrey sound like a prized breeding stud. But I would have thought Paloma, being the chief bride would get first choice?”

  “Because in matters of conjugal rights we are all equals, the matter is always decided by the drawing of the sticks.”

  “So, if I marry Surrey, won’t that mean there are seven sticks and that the other wives won’t get as much time together?”

  “In point of fact, it only meaneth that we set one more plate at our table.”

  Chapter 4 : The Sojourn in Witan Jewell

  The hall was astoundingly brilliant and luminous. The large windows and the whale oil lamps illuminated the hall as bright as a sunny day. The intoxicating scent of copal incense filled the air. The room was square like the building but inside was an arena, circular like a tipi and surrounded by corrals with rows of benches. And there was a second story with balcony seats. Towering overhead was a large dome with an oculus, to vent smoke and stale air, but also to represent the Eye of Howrus watching over all undertakings within the hall. The outside light shone directly onto and around the altar in the center of the floor. Surrounding the oculus on the ceiling were paintings of wisents, horses, swans and dragons to portray the swirling zodiac or star marks of the Herewardi.

  Everything appeared magical. Taneshewa stared at the magnificent dome, then turned her gaze to the east where the king sat on his mighty throne of beaten gold, shaped like swans. It had the appearance of having been set aflame in the bright light of the hall.

  The entire interior was of rich walnut wood construction with dark shiny wooden floors. On the walls hanged huge colorful tapestries. Each one was different; on one tapestry she recognized the palace of Pyrsyrus she had seen on the catechism cards of Going Snake. On another was a tall ancient man with a wide brimmed, pointed hat, a staff, and two curious ravens on either side of him.

  Sur Sceaf explained to Taneshewa as they walked down one of the many aisles, “This is my valley. We will sit right here in these pews.” The stewards opened a gate to pews sectioned off by a low banister. They escorted first Elijah, Onamingo, Habraham, Mendaka, and then her and Surrey to their personal front pew. Surrey stepped back to let her take her seat. The stewards escorted Margot, Rip, Hartmut, Fromer, and Shug along with a skinny man dressed some what like the Quailor with strange curls falling from the sides of his head and a small boy all dressed in black with the same curls.

  The dark walnut benches were covered in red velvet pads for comfortable seating. She thought about how different from the rough-hewn logs of her father’s long lodge with its grass mats this was. Pyrsyrus sat in a corral to her left beside whom appeared to be a Sharaka man dressed in the blackest of silk along with Face-of-Stars. She recognized three of Pyr’s wives and three she guessed must be his other wives.

  “Pyr sits with his wives, why aren’t you sitting with yours?”

  “Paloma sits with the Council of Women and Swan Hilde sits with the Roufytrof as a lore master. But the others will be here shortly, but not in their booth today.”

  The hall seating of the hall was divided into booths or corals called valleys representing the Herewardi Kingdom divided into four major geographical realms and seven kingdoms. Sur Sceaf governed in the West. Sur Sceaf’s cousin, Fergenstream, the brother the Wose, governed the South, Pyrsyrus the North, and my Sur Sceaf’s nephew, Ilkchild’s brother, the Half-King Kanarus in the East. The Lord Sur Spear was the commander and king over all.

  The South Valley sat warriors, artisans, and ladies from the Herewardi in the Northern Kalifornias. Sitting in the North were the Council of Women or the Swannery, in their aubergine robes. They represented the Supreme Swannery of Herewardom, but each house’s bride-covey was its own swannery.

  Pyrsyrus sat in the North Valley representing those Herewardi from the Sand Wand Islands of the Syrean Kingdom. His Pyringean Pirates sat with him, clothed in black.

  Those sitting on the sides of the East were from Fort Rock, Va Eyra’s kingdom.

  Those sitting in the West were the moot leaders of Witan Jewell.

  In the balcony to the North, dressed in the white robes were the Twelvers of the Roufytrof. Normally, when the forty four members of the Roufytrof met they wore Saxon green robes. In addition to the House of a Hundred Elders or heorls who wore aubergine robes, they constituted the One Hundred and Forty Four Syralfhim, which was the Herewardi ghost government, for which reason the herewardi honoured the Ghost Moon whenever it appeared.

  Reflecting, Ahy said, “The Roufytrof is like our Council of Spirit Chiefs, only you have a lot more. I see Long Swan sitting there in his white hooded robe. He looks so reflective.”

  “My brother is ever the thinker, that’s his normal state. While we have a few minutes let me give you a quick explanation of how all this works.”

  “Although that would be helpful, I can’t promise to remember everything you tell me.”

  He smiled. “Don’t worry about that. There are always plenty of people to help you with that. Like your Council of Spirit Chiefs, but they also act very much like the Council of Talking Chiefs. The Roufytrof has a dual spiritual and secular role to attend to Herewardi internal affairs, but their influence extends even through me into outer affairs. I am, appointed, as it were to be their arm, which simply means I accept their commission and execute their plans.”

  “So you are part of the Roufytrof? Why don’t you wear the white robe?”

  “Actually, I am not a member of the Roufytrof, I merely implement their decisions because by ancient custom they lead, they do not drive.”

  “What if you do not do what they say?”

  “People have done that before and have regretted not following their wise counsel. Normally, my wives would be sitting here in my valley with me, but we deemed it wiser for them to sit elsewhere in order to make room for all my honored guests, especially, you, my dear.”

  She smiled at him before turning to look at the bench behind her to see the strange man in the tall black hat smiling at her. Surrey followed her ey
es.

  “Ahy, please, this is Rabbi Amschel of the Jywdic tribe, Milkchild’s father, and his sons Zeruherewardi and Bnimmin.”

  “Rabbi Father, this is my bride to be. Please meet Ahyyyokah Taneshewa, daughter of Chief Onamingo of Dancing Rabbit’s hearth.”

  The Rabbi’s eyes twinkled, “My dear, I have only the greatest of respect for my son-in-law. He married my daughter, Milky. Since then, my daughter shines with happiness and I know you will fit in very well. My lady, you have found your way into a very loving and honorable family.”

  Taneshewa immediately liked this man. He had a spiritual pull to him similar to that of the Thunder Horse. “I appreciate that information. Everyone has been so kind and friendly. It will please me to get to know your daughter better.” She nodded.

  Stewards were ushering people swiftly to their seats. The hall was filling to capacity. She sensed a growing feeling of excitement and anticipation in the crowd.

  “Who will be sitting in the empty chair behind us?” Taneshewa asked.

  “I do not know whose empty seat that is. Father has simply kept it empty all these years. He has never said why. Only that it is the seat of our guest who shares our ancestry. Reserved for him alone, should he ever visit. I suspect it’s probably one of my father’s old friends from the Sire-Sheaf in the days my father was a beard in the Firginias.”

  “A beard you mean like you have.”

  “No, no!” He chuckled. “A beard is a spy.”

  “I see, but what is a Sire-Sheaf. Almost sounds like your name.”

  “A sire-sheaf is another Herewardi organ designed to seed the nations with our ideas of freedom, equality, and liberty and act as a hidden bank of our seed code. I was designated a member of the sire-sheaf until I got the commission to unite the three tribes.”

  “You’re only confusing me.” She smiled. “See, the hall is so full of people.”

  “You should have seen it a year ago when the Sire Sheaf came home for their orders.”

  “I’m going to try one more time to explain Sire-Sheaf to you because it is of critical import. Besides the numerous constellations of Herewardi settlements in the four lands, there is an organization within the Herewardi called the Sire Sheaf. They do not openly avow that they are Herewardi. You might even say they are spies or beards of a sort, but more than that they are sowers of goodwill for the Herewardi and they are preparing the nations of the Ea-Urth to receive equality, freedoms, tolerance, and liberties so as to prepare the nations for constitutionalism. They are the Seventh Kingdom.”

  She was about to ask the question, if the Ea-Urth the same as the earth, when she was interrupted by the blasts of trumpets reverberating through the rafters. As the last note faded out, Sur Spear rose and struck his long swan staff three times to the floor. Silence fell with only the sound of the audience rising from their seats. The king stood tall.

  A white haired man seated nearby the throne, stepped forward and in a surprisingly strong oaken voice proclaimed, “O ye! O ye! O ye! The high lord, King Sur Spear proclaims this moot fire opened in due and ancient form. Let those who choose to speak come before the altar, kneel upon the ewe’s foot cushion, salute the high lord twice, like so.” He raised his right arm to a square angle, made a fist, then struck his chest and repeated the salute with the left arm. “As always we will follow the list of speakers that petitioned to speak here today as recorded by the chief scribe, Aethelos. He being hoarse has appointed Long Swan as his mouthpiece. Should you speak, speak your mind from the altar, under the Eye of Howrus which shines through the occulus from the heavens above.”

  The herald bowed to Sur Spear before returning to his post behind the throne. Sur Spear sat back upon the gleaming swan throne. The aura of expectation increased as all grew hush.

  Long Swan then stood up and in a voice that reached to the rafters announced, “My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, the first order of any Herewardi undertaking is always a prayer. We will now hear from the lady Redith.”

  A white-haired, red-robed woman walked to the altar over which a beam from the occulus encased her in a pillar of light, Taneshewa moved closer to Surry to whisper. “By Tah-Man-Ea, from here she looks so much like Sagwi except for the clothes she is wearing.”

  “That’s Redith, Sagwi’s sister.”

  “So that is the great seeress, Redith. I couldn’t tell that was the one you pointed out earlier. She looks so queenly. I’ve heard much of her gift as a seeress. Her visions have even guided my father.”

  Surrey nodded, “Whenever I am troubled, I go to her. She has a habit of putting my feet on the right path when I stray. I dare say, I owe her the credit for my life turning out as well as it did. Without her I don’t know where I’d be.”

  Ahy nodded, “I could say much the same about Sagwi.”

  A nod from Sur Spear let Redith know to proceed. In a strong and melodious voice with a potent hint of a Sharaka accent she began to pray, “Oh gods of the Herewardi, gods of the Sharaka, and Gott of the Quailor, as well as the respective gods of the outlander tribes assembled here, all of the same essence, nothing is done without first seeking thy inspiration in lighting our pathway through the dark mists of Middle Earth. Thou hast revealed new and important knowledge to us which will soon be shared with all those present. Let the spirits of light direct those who speak this day, as we three tribes gain more insight and consider the various plans put forth for the settlements on the coasts of Ur Ford and Maiden’s Head. Help us to weigh and consider the benefits of harvesting the chaotic sea in our stated moot fire. Grant that we three great tribes can meet in peace, wisdom, and harmony. Shape it so.” Turning slightly, she bowed to Sur Spear and returned to her station in the North, next to where Surrey had pointed out the lady Paloma.

  Sur Spear struck the long swan staff one strike. “Please be seated.”

  When the hall was silent again, he stepped forward, glanced at Sur Sceaf and smiled. “If you will permit me a personal word before we begin, I wish to welcome my son, Sur Sceaf, home with a grand hailing; a son, as it were, with all the strengths and graces of a unicorn. Can anybody doubt now, though so young, that he is a unicorn?” He tucked his staff beneath his arm and in the age old rhythm of a grand hailing, clapped his hands in unison with the crowd in three measured claps and shouted, “Hereward, Hereward, Hereward!” with each clap.

  From behind Taneshewa heard Fromer say, “A unicorn? Ha! That’s a blasphemous beast if I’ve ever heard a mere pagan fantasy. It just exists in their heathen imagination. There’s no such thing.”

  Elijah turned quickly, “Well, thou shouldst take note, that it is mentioned in the Heilige Shrift, English version.”

  Taneshewa leaned in and whispered so Fromer couldn’t overhear, “Why do they call you a unicorn?”

  “It’s a code word for a praiseworthy achievement within the holy bloodline.”

  From behind Sur Spear rose a body of twelve members of the Roufytrof in their white robes contrasting with the other’s in Saxon green robes, arms raised above their heads, then dropping them as they said, “Blessed of Hrus-Syr-Os! Blessed of Howrus! May the blessings of Hereward be upon you and your posterity Sur Sceaf. Forever and forever. As above so below. Shape it so!” The Twelvers then returned to the Roufytrof’s special station in the valley of the north.

  Sur Spear pounded his staff one time. “Lord Prince Sur Sceaf, we have waited for your arrival to present some new plans which will greatly affect the commission you have been given. This meeting is solely to address those issues. Our first order of business will be to hear from Hrafn, the Raven’s Tongue, and our chief naval officer. Then we will hear from Turtle Duck the Cherokee chief on his report of the coasts, and finally the Rabbi Amschel, mayor of the coasts, has some what to tell us, in that order. Then Lord Prince Sur Sceaf you shall give the final report.” He waited a beat and then continued, “Chief Naval Officer Hrafn, please address us now on your mission.” Sur Spear nodded and returned to his throne.

  A tall R
ed Man with long straight black hair, attired in black silk robes with Tlingit art such as Face-of-Stars wore, arose and approached the altar. She noted his intensely black eyes as he sauntered down the aisle. He knelt before the altar, saluted Sur Spear and rose to his feet again, took a moment to look into all the valleys, then began to speak in a gravelly voice. “I am Hrafn, Lord Pyrsyrus’ chief naval officer. I am come to the coasts of Herewardom to train a navy, to train pirates, to build ships, develop boatswains, and to introduce you to the art of whaling, a very lucrative business in the see of Syrea. Since the Elven Fair, Sur Spear has had me training whalers on the coast. That is why he has called for the leaders assembled here in the Shepherd Hall today for this special convocation. It is to let you know I have been training a mix of Sharaka, Herewardi, and Jywdic crews on ship building and have shown them how to take the whales who have come close to shore.

  “We have already demonstrated the benefits of the whale oil in pumping up the economy of Syra-Coos in Lord Pyrsyrus’ kingdom in the Sand Wand Islands, the wealth of which has permitted us to erect a great fortress and palace unequaled anywhere else. And for me,”-- he grinned--“to afford this fine silken robe.” The assembly laughed as he comically modeled the garment. “We will now demonstrate how the whaling industry can be duplicated in the coasts of this land.”

  Hrafn swung his arm high and wide, his black blousey sleeves catching the breeze. “Look about you. The brilliance of this hall, if you noticed today, is being lit with the excellent luminance of the golden whale oil that renderers on the coast have produced. Look at the white banners hanging with their red embossed sheep’s foot print in the middle of which is a golden embossed bee hive. For our guests from other nations it means the Herewardi civilization has been made rich by following after the sheep, harvesting the wool, meat, and milk and by following the honey bee to sweeten the good things in life.