Witan Jewell

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Witan Jewell Page 23

by Russ L. Howard


  “Sounds like a party, doesn’t it,” Ahy winked, “but with half-naked boys and barely clad girls.”

  “Chust a swim.” Lana said, “It’s what they always do anytime the weather gets the least bit warm even though the water is still just snow melt.”

  As Meny scanned the beach, she spotted Hartmut off to the side, lying on the sand with his shirt off and his hat pulled down to shade his face.

  Mendaho could feel her heart rate pick up. A warmth beyond sunlight was heating her body. “Well, speak of the devil, Ahy,” she elbowed her, “there’s the Black Hatter over there.” She pointed. “Um, um! Handsome as a bull elk, ain’t he. Look at those broad shoulders and all those muscles under that white skin. Imagine laying your head on that chest every night just before you drift off to sleep.”

  “Meny, this is your last chance to engage him before you give up,” Ahy goaded, as she dried one of the dishes with the napkins.

  “Engage! Are you crazy? I’m not about to make a fool of myself in front of everybody here.”

  “Look,” Lana said, “he’s the only Quailor here. He must have heard we were coming here for a picnic. Go, engage him, thou chicken. I see now, thou art all talk and no show.”

  Meny thought for a moment, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to let Hartmut know she was here. Ahy followed close behind. Meny took the wet napkin from Ahy, dipped it into the water and then traipsed over to him. Stepping slowly and quietly up to the reposing man, she began wringing out water over his bare chest. “Wake up! Black Hatter.”

  A jolt struck her leg. A strong calloused hand gripped her by the ankle swifter than a rattlesnake grabs a bird. She let out a blood curdling scream, tugging to get free.

  “I should have known.” He paused. “My tormenter. Thou canst not stop being a hellion, canst thou? Why dost thou not go back to hell where thou dost belong?” Momentarily, she thought he was serious, and it pained her, but just as quickly, he sat up straight and asked her in the most inviting of voices, “Meny, come, sit with me.” He patted the ground beside him. “It’s time we got to know each other.”

  She was not expecting him to respond this way at all and so for a moment she didn’t even know what to say. Was he serious or was this some cruel joke.

  “Well, since you won’t leave me alone.” Mendaho said, easing herself down on the blanket, next to him. The young bloods turned back to their play, and she saw a big smile on Ahy’s face.

  “A great day the Lord hath made,” Hartmut said.

  Still taken aback at his response, she read sincerity in his eyes. “It is a good day, isn’t it. I hope every day of spring is this warm. I was damned tired of those grey days and drippy skies.”

  “For an April day, it suiteth me chust fine.” Hartmut smiled. “I rushed through my chores so that I could join the youth here. I chust thought I’d get back to nature and set my soul free. Mayhap, even see the girl who is always so much on my mind.” He looked her square on. “See how the Herewardi enjoy themselves on such a day. These boys really know how to have fun. When Surrey lived among the Quailor, we did this all the time. He said it was like a rite of spring. He would tease me about how restricted we Quailor are and would tell me how even King David danced naked before the Ark of the Covenant, celebrating his body. I used to feel guilty for enjoying simple pleasures like this. But no more. The prison door of my own mind broke when Evangeline died and now I am free at last.”

  Meny was close to being struck speechless. “I couldn’t help but notice that at the Booger Dance. Some of the Quailor youth looked like they really wanted to join us, but felt too guilty to do it. You were one of them that looked like they wanted to join in the dance.”

  “I wanted to, but the memory of my wife stopped me short. It was as if it was wrong for me to enjoy myself so much.” Hartmut placed a hand so close to hers that she could feel the heat radiating to her cold hand. “It is a tradition amongst the Quailor to mourn for at least six months. It’s not easy to break away from one’s upbringing.”

  Mendaho was surprised at his willingness to admit such emotion. No man she knew had ever done so before. “I’m very sorry about your wife. It hurts me when I remember my brother, Bone Tosser, getting killed in Frink Glen. I learned from Sagwi that feeling guilty would not bring him back. I think I really hurt my parents when I shamed them with my behavior. I have since learned it is the duty of the living to live. This is the way the gods meant it to be,” Mendaho declared. She paused and watched Ahy returning to the washing of the dishes, and the Herewardi boys sitting on each others shoulders, struggling to knock one another off into the cold water. She smiled. “They meant for us to rejoice.”

  “Well, we believe Gott sends these tests as a punishment for wrong thinking.”

  “Don’t ya know it’s like Sagwi says, ‘Grand Mother, what you probably call nature, is the supreme governess. She administers the degrees of life and death to all equally, both the good and the evil, and she suffers none to amend her rules.’ Evangeline’s death was a horrible tragedy, but if anyone is to blame, it was that fool that led her to her death.”

  “In our culture we are supposed to love the fools and forgive our enemies, but in my heart I can not do that. How can anyone love a Pitter knowing the evil they do? How can I ever forgive Fromer for having taken her away from me? She was my most precious jewel.” He paused long staring at the ground. “If I’d only stayed at home that day, she wouldn’t have died.”

  Mendaho placed her hand on Hartmut’s warm back, “If it had been you who died, would you have wanted Evangeline to spend the rest of her life wallowing in grief, or would you want her to embrace the gift of life for the both of you?”

  “When I married Evangeline, I vowed to Gott that she would never know a day of unhappiness.” There was silence before he added, “I failed miserably.”

  Mendaho said. “Your wife must have loved you very much,” Meny said as she rubbed her hand over his back in a comforting gesture. “She would not have wanted you to spend your life beating up on yourself like this.”

  Instead of answering, he leaned into her and kissed her, first on the forehead, then taking his hands and placing them on either side of her head, he kissed each of her cheeks delicately and slowly. She felt paralyzed with warmth as his lips slid over hers and she felt him drink from her soul.

  Opening her eyes was like awakening to a beautiful dawn. The kiss felt so respectful, so serving of her needs, so worshipfully delivered that she thought it must have been a dream. A stream of tears ran down her face.

  “What is it?” He asked in a low voice in her ear. “Have I offended thee?”

  “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m confused. I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I love thee, Mendaho, and if thou art willing, I want to take thee for my wife to betroth.” He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “I realize I need thee--”

  He was interrupted by a screeching voice coming from somewhere up the embankment. Mendaho lifted her eyes only to look up at a sickly pale, mousey youth and the queer, Fromer, beating a direct path for them. Fromer’s rat-face shone bright red with rage as he stormed across the beach in indignation.

  “Hartmut Hagele,” Fromer screamed, causing the young bloods and maidens to stop their play and watch, “I might have known thou wouldst eventually fall into this sink of iniquity,” he cackled in his usual high pitched whining voice. “Here thou art mingling with the Heathen and taking whores unto thyself, half-naked in the sight of our Gott.” He poked a thick stubby finger into Mendaho’s arm.

  Mendaho rose up from the blanket in a fury and gave an uppercut with her fist that knocked Fromer out cold. “No one calls me that, least of all a mealy mouthed rat.”

  “Mendaho, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Hartmut said. “Well executed.”

  Fromer’s mousy companion screamed, “You just struck a dycon! Do you realize you just struck the Lord’s anointed?”

  “Is that your word fo
r a rat?” Mendaho spat out, “Because if it is, I am about to strike another one.” She menaced the youth with both fists drawn. “What in the hell gives you the right to come over to interrupt a private conversation and start chewing on my ear. The nerve! I warn you, don’t ever insert your morality into my happiness again. Now, you better help Uncle Rat there, Mouse Face, and shut it in my presence before I cold cock you on the spot. And when he wakens, you tell him to keep those nubby little fingers of his away from me.” She grabbed him by his shirt. “Ya hear?”

  The youth trembled and cowered.

  “You heard her, Linney,” Hartmut said as he reached down to pick up an object that had flown from Mendaho’s pocket. “Soon as he waketh, the two of you take your noses elsewhere or I’ll personally plant you a lot deeper.”

  Mendaho turned to him, her heart still thundering in her chest. “So, Hartmut, now that you see what I’m really like, do you still want to marry me?”

  He grinned, “Even more than before. There is nothing like unto a woman of surprises to stir a half-dead man to life again. I shalt long delight in this day.”

  Some of the young bloods ran over for a better view. Xelph leaned down near the unconscious body of Fromer to assess the damage. He felt along the neck for a pulse. Looked up and declared, “He’s cold-cocked alright.”

  Hartmut gently handed her the book. “I didn’t know that thou didst read love sonnets.”

  “Oh, Milkchild lent me that book. She said reading the Herewardi sonnets is the best way to understand the way of a man with a woman.”

  “Meny,” Hartmut said, “a warrioress that readeth love sonnets. How could I resist? Thou art like unto Judith of Old.”

  “Well, it felt great, but is this going to cause you trouble of any sort?”

  “If it doth, I’ll handle it. I don’t know why I didn’t do that a long time ago.”

  “Way to go Mendaho,” Xelph said, looking up at the increasing crowd gathering around the unconscious man at her feet. “You don’t know how many of us wished we could have done that.” He felt Fromer’s wrist for a pulse. “He’ll be alright. Probably have a spinning headache for a while.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” the others said as they snapped each other with their towels and ran back to their sport. Some of the girls nodded their heads and gave Meny an approving smile.

  Ahy had left the dishes on the rocks to come over for support. “I’m with you too on this one sister.”

  “Me too,” Lana said, still in what appeared to be a state of shock, but half laughing. She nervously put her cupped hand to her mouth to disguise her joy.

  After several long moments, Fromer woke up bug-eyed and disoriented. “What happened?” He asked as he looked around. Xelph helped him to his feet, but as soon as his gaze met hers, his expression turned ugly again. “Get me out of this fleshpot, Linney.”

  “So that’s your name, little mouse. Linney the Mouse.”

  The Mouse glared at her and she laughed in his face.

  “This is blasphemous, Brother Fromer.” Linney struggled to keep Uncle Rat from falling as the small man staggered away.

  They overheard Fromer say, “You can bet this is because of Elijah’s preachings on tolerance and acceptance. You see where it’s brought us, don’t you Linney.”

  Linney nodded.

  Yellow Horse rhymed, “Fromer and his little toady walked down the hill to fetch a bit of trouble. Mendaho rose and broke his pious nose, and Linney went snivelling after.” Another round of laughter echoed up the beach.

  Arundel said, “It was dealt with properly, but methinks he has not yet learned his lesson.”

  Hartmut nodded, “Maybe he hath not, but I have. Thanks to my little warrioress here!” Then he leaned down and kissed her.

  * * *

  Long Swan’s Log: It is the twenty fourth day of the Pink Moonth or Skipping Moonth as some Herewardi communities called it, the year 584 H.S.O. This is a time of King’s Sport, the racing of horses and the fighting of stallions. A time when we begin welcoming the approach of summer and decorating the sheepfolds with the green branches of paw paws, kindling hickory fires, and running our animals through the smoke for protection in the coming year while offering up milk, honey, and cakes to our divinities until the Goddess Walpurga closes the Moonth with her women votives on the Holy Mound at Namen Jewell. Meanwhile the men perform the Parade of Dragons and children follow them on hobbyhorses through the streets and fields. It is a time of making lover’s bowers and mazes and the putting on the green.

  The lord Sur Sceaf escorted members of the Mexus Caballo Blanco, the Citriodoran and Friscan Merchants to Witan Jewell by order of King Sur Spear in hopes of forming an alliance with them. He was required to stay longer on the coast of the great deep than he had expected, but gained more in the skills of making boats, navigation, and seamanship. He has also recruited more boat builders to hasten the number of boats and ships being built by twelve fold as King Sur Spear so commanded in the moot fire. This is a monumental feat to be accomplished in a mere five moonths.

  I also reported to the lord Sur Sceaf that Faeimp said she heard that a Sharaka would betray him and the traitor’s name was Going Snake. Sur Sceaf dismissed it as unreliable information since the only Going Snake he knows is but a child. Upon his return to Namen Jewell he will marry the lady Ahyyyokah Taneshewa of the Sharaka and take up his command over the settlers of the three tribes and all the peoples on the coast. He has addressed us much upon the subject of forming the foundation of the new city-state which will stretch from Charly’s Harbor to the mighty Redwood Forests of the Northern Kalifornias and as far south as Bodego Bay.

  We are about to return to Witan Jewell.

  * * *

  Sur Sceaf ended his journey at the Shepherd Hall where he, Pyr, Long Swan, and Raven’s Tongue, met with King Sur Spear in the Ram’s Den to report their expedition and give an accounting of all that was accomplished. They gave one another the royal embrace exchanged pleasantries, and then the king waved them to seats around the table.

  “Father,” Sur Sceaf said, “we have completed our training at sea and plan on returning to the Whale Road in one moonth. We have learned the art of building ships, sailing, and how to read the seas and to defend our ship.”

  “That pleases me.” The king said, “And the whaling, how is it progressing?”

  “We will return for further training on that matter. Turtle Duck is already outfitting several boats and then Raven’s Tongue will take us whaling in the great deep along the Swan Road of the Aurvandilean Sea. And if Aegir will offer up the fruits of the sea, we shall have whale oil to trade by summer’s end.”

  “It is good,” Sur Spear said, before turning to his firstborn. “Pyr, what report have you?”

  “We’re constantly constructing and launching dragoons in increasing numbers,” Pyrsyrus said. “Shug Moss and the Columba Rogues are proving most adept as seamen, but my favor falls on the young Zeru-Herewardi and his mostly Jywdic wolf pack. It seems the boy has always had a love of the sea, and although he’s the Rabbi’s son, the boy has worked on ships for the Caballo Blanco long enough for them to have given him the nick name of El Yid.”

  “Did the Rabbi agree?”

  “The Rabbi has given him permission to take up seamanship. I see him as a potential Pyringean Pirate. After all, he says Arundel taught him swords and the ability to rapidly move over rocks, buildings, and obstacles while at the academy. I’ve tried him with blades and he has a master’s cut. I tested him on rapid movements through an obstacle course while on board. He negotiates walls with ease, jumps like a jackrabbit, and climbs like a squirrel. Though young, he’s the man we’ve been looking for. Furthermore he’s been actively training a lot of the young blood Jywds in the same skills. It seems we will have an Ary by land and El Yid by sea, just as we had hoped.”

  Sur spear nodded. “The Rabbi will be pleased to hear that. He is eager for his people to play a major role in the new sea kingdom we shall build. What co
ncerns me now, is how will you find the manpower you require to build even more ships and train more pirates at the same time?”

  “I will train the Columba Rogues and young blood jywds to be pirates and soon we’ll be able to man all the dragoons. I’ve also negotiated with Elijah, who says he can procure healthy Quailor boys for rowers for the larger triremes and also to assist in ship building. Within the next three moonths if all goes as planned we should be able to ram any large ship, to penetrate deeply up any river or estuary, and to raid Pitter zongas wherever they may be found.”

  The king looked pleased with Pyrsyrus’ report. “You are convinced the sea is our road to destroying the Pitters, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve never been more convinced, Fa. If Surrey can build and fortify a city-state out of our three peoples, then I am convinced a navy will be the arms with which we can reach out and defeat the Pitters, while freeing other peoples, who surely will join with us. The sea provides us a road to just about anywhere we want to go. If we master the seas, then by Aegir, we shall one day rule the world and possess all the gates of our enemies.”

  The king glanced at Long Swan who had seated himself at the scribes table busy scoring and writing everything down.

  “Young Prince Sur Sceaf, are you ready to have one foot on land and the other on the sea?”

  Sur Sceaf nodded, “I am Father, as it seems to be the will of the gods that I do so.”

  The king turned to Raven’s Tongue. “My dear Hrafn, are you up to hammering a bunch of farmers, merchants, shepherds, ranchers, and Jywdic scholars into a navy, and making them true whalers and seamen?”

  “I am, my lord and king. During this training period, I have learned how to accelerate many of the processes. I have found that the trainer is there when the pupil is willing. And this generation is willing.”

 

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