Witan Jewell

by Russ L. Howard

  During the meetings with the Mexus, their leader, Don Guerra, delivered reports on the Pitter legions moving into Mexus Lands where they had steadily captured and enslaved masses of people and formed alliances with robber bands of Mexus Rogues. Guerra gave a report on an escapee from the Witch Lands, who said the Growling were skin-eaters and took the young women they purchased from the Pitters beneath the earth to eat them. He also reported that this escapee was a man of twenty winters when he was captured, but looked more like a man of sixty winters when he returned one year later.

  After all the meetings ended, Sur Sceaf rode White Fire back to Namen Jewell and tried not to think of the devilry that was now spreading over Panygyrus with the advance and increase of Pitter legions. The mere thought that the Poisoned Lands were now releasing trolls made him shudder. More than ever, he had to fortify his people not only against the Pitters, but now the new horrors pouring out of the Witch Lands.

  * * *

  Taneshewa woke up early in her room at the inn of the ale house. It was still pre-dawn with the first fingers of light struggling to break through the fog bank along the river. She bathed luxuriantly in the large copper tub of warm water the maids had provided for her. Then leisurely dried herself and slipped into her buckskin dress. As she ran the snake comb through her hair to part it, she couldn’t remember a time that she had slept so deeply or so long. A smile broke across her face and eyes as she remembered a dream she had of her and Surrey rolling in tall warm grasses. She smacked her cheeks to give them some color. She wanted to be wide awake when Pyrsyrus’ bride troupe arrived to fetch her for breakfast.

  The knock at the door came sooner than expected. Taneshewa hurriedly put a little perfume behind each ear and smeared red bear grease over her lips. She took a moment to catch her breath before opening the door. Standing at her threshold, she was greeted by Swan Ray.

  “Is it time already?” Taneshewa said as she stepped back for Swan Ray to enter.

  “No, I’m actually quite early,” Swan Ray said as she roamed about the room. “I wanted to visit with you while my bride-sisters are getting ready. You seemed so understanding and I felt such a connection with you.” She gave her an inquiring look. “May I speak freely?”

  “Of course.”

  “You see, none of my bride-sisters believe me. I know Ilker is alive. I feel it.” She smote her chest. “In here. The Ur Fyr tells me it is so.”

  “Please, have a seat,” Taneshewa said, “perhaps I can help.”

  “They keep telling me he has to be dead even though no one has ever found a body or any sign of him other than his sword. They say I have the grief sickness and that my mind is goblin-robbed. They keep saying four years is long enough for any grief and that I am acting contrary to sound reason. Ahy, in the core of my being, I know he is out there somewhere. No matter how impossible that sounds to others. There are times I awaken in the night and swear he was standing there with me, only to have him vanish into thin air when I go to reach for him.”

  “Swan Ray, if that is what you truly believe, then who am I to tell you otherwise.”

  “So you don’t believe me either?”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you. Apparitions can be strong and who knows where they come from, the Spirit Realm, the Summer Lands, or just the workings of our fevered minds. I just know how heart-sickness can overwhelm a person. When I’ve been troubled and heart sick, I’ve gone to Sagwi and Thunder Horse and asked them for their scrying. If you’d like, we could go together to see the Thunder Horse. He’s never been wrong. You should get a reading.”

  “Taneshewa, I used to be known as the clearest seer in the Seven Kingdoms. Let me share something with you. I’ve never told anyone else about this dream, they would say it is just more grief, but I can see it will be safe to tell you.”

  “Please, go on.”

  “I dreamed I saw a mighty oak which was uprooted by a filthy river flowing out of the Northeast. It was a river filled with carnage, skulls, bone slivers, and entrails. The oak tumbled and fell and lost several branches in its fall until it was carried to an island with a crystal clear spring that drove back the filth of the dark murky waters. On this bejeweled island it took root again and its remaining branches sheltered the birds of heaven and the creatures below. Then the tree grew so well that it exceeded its former glory.”

  Taneshewa was moved to compassion. “From the time I was a little girl, I never got it, how people’s dreams could teach us so much and, like you, I hoped my dreams and visions were true, but like your bride-sisters, I also agree there comes a time when we must eat the ashes of grief and move on to a new day. It’s almost too cruel to utter, but often, we must live in another world than the one we wanted this one to be.”

  “Thank you, Taneshewa, for listening with your heart instead of your mind. Pyr has been a real champion to me. I have such a conflict of wanting to be a real wife to him, but I can’t. Not until I feel beyond any doubt that Ilker has truly gone to sleep in the Halls of the Fathers and is not festering some where in a Pitter prison or labor camp waiting to break free.”

  “I understand what it is like to know you must leave something treasured behind, but not be able to. When I met Sur Sceaf I desperately wanted to be free of my past. Thunder Horse’s vision showed me the clear path out of my lost love, but I still wasn’t completely convinced. It took time to get rid of my love for the Standing Bull. Yet with Sur Sceaf’s help, I found the way.”

  “Now I must make a decision to either take up my marriage bed with Pyrsyrus or spend the rest of my life alone wallowing in a world of shadow memories. Yet with each stitch that I put into my tapestry I find myself believing that what Ilker and I shared can never have died. Perhaps it is time to finish the tapestry once and for all, and find out.”

  * * *

  Even though it was late morning the dining room at the inn of the ale house was a bustle with travelers coming and going. As Hartmut entered the buffet line, he noticed there were all sorts of peoples here in very queer garb. Besides the tribes he could not recognize, he saw White Knives, Snake, Sharaka, Mexus, and Friscans. There were finely dressed merchants, a few who proudly said they were smugglers, some Coastal Rogues, Hickoryans, and a few Presters. He had a sudden awareness of how many different peoples inhabited the earth.

  Heavy smells of hot cakes and honey filled the air. As the line inched forward, he overheard much talk of Pitter legions coming their way. He overheard strange tales of the Witch Lands, vampyrs, and little creatures the Bounders were calling creeps. Hartmut wondered if such tales could have any validity in reality. He filled his tray with stacks of hot cakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage. Then he threaded his way through the tables to the rear of the large room to where Elijah and Fromer were seated with their wives, Miriam and Sarai, who were drinking some hot chicory, coffee berry, and roasted barley drink.

  “May I have the honor of sitting with you, Brethren?” he asked.

  “Surely.” Elijah said with a welcoming smile.

  Miriam seemed very happy to see him, “I have noticed you have been smiling a lot more lately, Hartmut. It’s good to see thy spirits returning. Hast thou some special cause for this joy? Hath the Lord shown thee some mercy or grace?”

  “The truth be known,” Hartmut told her, “I didn’t realize I was still smiling. The Sharaka maiden, Mendaho was chust so much fun to be with.” He paused.

  Fromer could not stay seated. He jumped up, leaned across the trestle table, and grabbed Hartmut’s hand. “Dost thou not realize it is an abomination to mingle with strange women? I shall have to pray for thee, Hartmut. I can see Satan wants to sift thee like wheat. That woman is a seductress. Flee, Brother, before it’s everlastingly too late.”

  Sarai murmured, “That chust goes to show thee,” she coughed into her handkerchief, “that the lord tries us among the Heathen and savages to see if we can remain unpolluted in their midst.”

  Hartmut swallowed hard. “I can’t believe ye are not capab
le of giving credit where credit ist due. She’s done nothing but handled herself like unto a saint.”

  Fromer frowned, “All credit is due the Lord that thou didst not break and yield to her deceptive wiles. I heard how she burgled thy underwear. What a brazen Jezebel!”

  “That was mere play. We both behaved like friends only. But it is time I seek a wife for my children.”

  Sarai looked shocked, wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I thought that’s what I chust warned thee about.”

  Hartmut poured honey over his buckwheat cake.

  “Where is that Sharaka … wench.” Fromer demanded. “If I see her again, I’ll tell her to leave thee alone. Thou art a holy vessel, she is unfit for the likes of thee.”

  “I have no idea. I assume she is back in her camp. We’ve made no commitments, so I trust thou canst leave this matter well enough alone, Brother Fromer.”

  “Oh, Hartmut, my brother in the faith, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Am I to believe thou didst spend the night with her?”

  “I most certainly didst not! And thou dost insult us both by suggesting such. She ist a true lady. I took her back to her camp and bid her good night. That’s all. She ist a sweet and pure woman who maketh me to forget my grief. She hath made me to laugh again.”

  “I warn thee, Hartmut, that’s how those seductresses worketh,” Fromer said as he shook his boney finger. “They taste as sweet as honey on the lips, but once their essence is swallowed they are as bitter as wormwood in thy gut. Strange women are what destroyed Samson and Solomon, if thou dost remember.”

  Hartmut’s anger rose, but mindful of the crowded dining area, he kept his voice low. “I think I’m quite capable of judging what ist best for me and what ist not, Fromer. Last I checked thou wast not my parent or guardian.”

  Fromer’s face darkened. “That may be. Thou wast always fairly level headed, but I warn thee, after what I heard from those Herewardi young bloods last evening, I fear we have brought our people into the belly of the dragon. Perhaps thou wast too busy being tantalized by the wench, but I had no such temptation to blind me. What I heard and saw made me ill. It was an insult of the very moral fabric of our lives. It was an infection of the worst order.”

  Hartmut put down his fork and stared directly into Fromer’s eyes. “What dost thou speak of now? All I saw was a group of loving people having a good time and celebrating the return of someone they dearly loved.”

  “Love, thou callest it! Didst thou not see that boy, Ilkchild? First off, on our trek he was always strutting about half-naked before all our young women. Surely thou didst notice. He wouldst ride about on that golden stallion of his like some sun god. And then, last night, he paradeth around with those two young wenches he planneth to marry. Marry, he calleth it. Chust when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I overheard Sur Sceaf’s own son plotting to commit adultery and fornication with four girls.”

  “It ist not adultery in their culture. Thou hast forgotten that Father Abraham, Moses, David and Solomon all had many wives. Some even say the troupe of women who followed Jesus may have been his brides, for what rabbi would travel with women he was not married to?”

  “Blasphemous!” Fromer’s face grew as red as a beet and his jaw muscles bulged to the popping point. “It’s a damned abomination. The sooner we get to the coast and onto our own farms the happier I shall be. Away from all this filth, false doctrine, and nudity. Someone needeth to tell them they are naked.”

  “False doctrine, why? Why wouldn’t the maker of marriage be a partaker of marriage also?”

  “Because it is not the orthodox doctrine.” Fromer said thin lipped. “I can’t believe, thou too are starting to listen to these pagans. They teach nothing but filth. Sexual acts are filthy and our lord would never partake of them. These folk are licentious.”

  “Filth,” Elijah said. “Like Hartmut, I witness no filth. Gott is surely not going to command us to marry and call the beautiful act of joining, filth. And, on the contrary, these people have enlightened me. I am not debased by mingling with them. I truly believe their wisdom far exceedeth our own. They have greeted us with smiles and open arms. Both Miriam and I have been shown nothing but hospitality, warmth, and unfeigned friendship since being here. And we have seen nothing that could be called licentiousness.

  “Art thou blind, man? Just look at all the decorations, artwork, and finery. That telleth you, these are a covetous people. I tell thee, it is these very trappings of wealth and opulence we need to avoid most of all. It’s like the plague. Any more than a few drinks of that ale they served could rip a man’s soul right out of him. It had me feeling way too good. All I could feel last night was carnal, sensual, and devilish. I had to apologize this morning to the mrs. It’s shown me, we need to eschew all this for the simpler life. Only Retrenchment can stop this serpent from taking us in its coils.” His eyes narrowed to snake like slits. “Thy wife, Evangeline, fought to the bitter end. She would not yield up her virtue. I’ve always taught it ist better to go to the grave than to ever surrender your virtue. A trait these Heathen peoples sorely need to learn.”

  Fighting to suppress his anger, Hartmut shifted his gaze to the window behind Fromer where he spotted Taneshewa approaching with Pyrsyrus and his wives. Pyrsyrus threw back his tawny head in a robust laugh at something his dark-haired wife had just told him.By God, I would much rather be in Pyrsyrus’ cheerful company than endure Fromer’s dreary prejudices and dour temperament for another moment.

  * * *

  As they entered the dining hall Donya said, “The first time I heard ju calling Mendaho, I thought ju was saying pendejo, what means ‘ass’ in Espagñol.”

  Ahy laughed, “I’ll be sure to tell her when I see her later today.”

  She was in a happy mood as they gathered their breakfast foods and headed for the nearby round table by a bay window that the inn keeper, Orsini had reserved for Pyrsyrus and his company. They had just started to eat when Brekka came over carrying her tray. She greeted them with a friendly smile. “I would have known you anywhere Fa Bro Pyr, I am Brekka of Lana’s hearth, my father told me not to bother you so early in the morning, but I just had to come over and speak with you before we tour the stables.”

  “Please sit with us,” Pyr said as he turned his gaze to Brekka, “I would be honored.” He signaled to Orsini to bring another chair. The others shifted around to make more room. “Your father has always talked about his daughter whom he calls his Little Red Fox. I’m supposing you are that one?”

  “I am the one and only Brekka.” She allowed herself to be seated by Orsini as though she were a grand lady.

  “I can see both your father and the warrior in you.”

  “And I can see both Fa Fa and Herewose in you.”

  “Beauty is in our blood, Bro Dau.” Pyr said.

  Donya added, “Please, do not forget the modesty.” They laughed.

  Taneshewa added, “I heard you were quite the bear fighter, Brekka.”

  “That’s true.” Brekka grinned revealing a dimple in one cheek. “Although I admit, had it not been for Fa, I would have been called the bear fodder.”

  “Facing a grizzly would’ve scared me nigh to death,” Taneshewa said, “I’ve always kept a safe distance from them.”

  “I was more scared of Fa than the bear. I didn’t want to lose any of his flock. He always fusses over his sheep and said Frey expects us to be good shepherds and to increase and protect the flocks he gave to the Ea-Urth. You know it’s not often grizzly bear come down here in the valley.”

  Brekka sat between Donya and Swan Ray, intensely studying everyone.

  “Brekka, permit me.” Pyr said. “This is the lady Donya and the lady Swan Ray and over here is the lady Faewylf and Face-of-Stars, our friend and the daughter to Raven’s Tongue. They will all be staying at Namen Jewell in Surrey’s extra house.”

  Donya placed her hand over Brekka’s, “Ju are well known among us, my dear. Ilkchild has told us so much about ju, jo
ur hunts, and even said ju can out-tussle most of the boys, though I wager ju, few will admit to that.” Donya smiled.

  “As I’ve gotten older and the boys have gotten older, it’s getting more and more difficult to match them in strength. Men are just born with more muscle and armoring, but I can still out fence most of them.”

  Pyrsyrus grinned, “Your father said they might best you in muscle, but they can’t match you in cunning or skill.”

  “Ilkchild has told me you were a great help to him resolving his grief,” Swan Ray said softly.

  “Yes, but no help in quelling his rage or restoring his faith in the gods. He has swallowed too many bitter thoughts and I fear they will some day poison him if he does not soon turn.”

  Swan Ray commended, “I still thank you much for trying.”

  Brekka looked into Swan Ray’s eyes for a long moment before taking Swan Ray’s hand into her own. “I can see by the light that surrounds you that you also are too much grieved, Lady Swan Ray. Now that I feel your hands I feel our hearts have met before.”

  Swan Ray appeared astonished, “I can feel it too. We are of the same spirit, you and I, aren’t we, my child?”

  Even as Brekka nodded, her eyes remained fixed and she seemed almost trance-like. Similar to the way Thunder Horse got before speaking his visions. Finally, she spoke in a flat cadence as though reciting the message she was receiving. “In twice three moonths, between the waning of the old moon and the waxing of the new moon, a message shall come to you out of the ashes. I see a barren landscape stretching over an abyss. In a flash, from deep within the abysmal gap I see coals from a dead fire kicked up by a wind that is starting to blow this way. A spark will be kindled and carried upward by the winds to alight on a dead tree above the great chasm. It is a tree which had been burnt to the core with grief, but a glow comes out of its heart, restoring its branches so that they bud, blossom, and fruit from overwhelming joy. I believe you are that tree, Lady Swan Ray, and green shall cover your bare ashen branches once again, but first there must needs be a season of proving.”