Witan Jewell

by Russ L. Howard

  “Raw Top,” Bear Jim said. “I know it well, you can see the whole valley from there.”

  “Precisely. You said you knew a path up to there. Can you get us up there in the dark?”

  He looked at the children. “Sure enough, but it’ll be right tricky keeping these horses from falling into the canyon.” Jim shook his head. “These are awful youngins to be tryin’ such a venture, though. Careful, we have to dismount here, and walk our horses to the left. It ain’t safe to be ridin’ no more.”

  The climb was steep and arduous, and zig zagged back and forth, but Ary pressed the striplings onward. Fortunately, the boys took it as a high adventure. Moving cautiously to keep their horses from slipping in the twilight they followed a very narrow serpentine trail along the cliff face until they broke into a bare incline bordering a steep canyon. At the top the ground was all crumbled gravel and all but barren of a few trees. By the time they reached Raw Top, they and their horses were sucking for breath. Exhausted by the grueling climb the adults collapsed to the ground, but the boys and Brekka were filled with the excitement from the Pitter pursuit.

  “Oh, this is the greatest hunt ever, Ary,” Ev’Rhett exclaimed. “First bear, then hell-rats. Wait til I tell everybody.”

  “Elwod will be so jealous.” Russell snickered.

  Going Snake said, “Our friends aren’t going to believe us.”

  It was semi-dark when Jim finally found his voice. “Alright boy, here we are. What ju got cookin’?”

  Ary wheezed, “As soon as we catch our breath, let’s gather firewood. I want to build a big fire and ride around it. They’ll think we are an army before the night is over and seek us for engagement. It’ll make them come in after us and we’ll leave the rest for the terrain to take care of.”

  “We need to be concerned about a safe exit off this mountain if they should discover a way up here.” Redelfis posited, sitting up and looking around.

  “There’s not really an escape route,” Bear Jim said, “Matter of fact only thing like that would be to ride down the west slope with great danger and drop into Woodbine. But don’t fret jour gizzard, they ain’t likely to find their way up here even in the daylight. ‘Cause the path doesn’t look like it comes up here and those cliffs would scare the bravest of souls. Good thing it was comin on to dark or you’d never have come up here either. Those youngins would have frozen in their tracks. We’re safe for now, but might as well get used to it. We’re as good as trapped.”

  The striplings had brush and dead wood stacked in no time and Going Snake set it ablaze with his flint and tinder. Once the flames were bright, Arundel instructed them to mount and to ride in circles slowly about the fire so that the Pitters would look up and think an army was approaching from above. It wasn’t long before they could look below and see the flicker of torches as the enemy attempted to get at them.

  “Hey, look,” Ev’Rhett said, “they are trying to get up here.”

  “No they are not, those torches are moving too fast.” Russell pointed below. “They’ve hit the slippery slopes. Trying to back up and it’s making it worse. Hooray! They’re falling into the briar hole.”

  Even as they were celebrating, the ground rumbled beneath their feet. The splitting of trees and cracking of stone reverberated through the night air. The hillside gave way under the weight of so many soldiers. Pitters screamed and many of the torches snuffed out. Dozens were crushed by stones and trees. Boulders as large as houses blocked their return out of the canyon.

  The children first stood in shock, then whooped and hollered with glee.

  “Good God! No one’s getting out of there,” Bear Jim said, “Ain’t no way to climb back up those slopes. Took me days to get outta there through the back way when I got myself stuck in ‘er. And that was without a slide.”

  “How’d you get out?” Brekka asked.

  “Had to go through miles of blackberries to the north. Cut my way with a kukri. The south end of the canyon is too steep. Then I doubled back from up on top.”

  Redelfis chuckled. “There’s going to be some mighty uncomfortable Pitters tonight. What say you we make them even more miserable? You know, arrows and boulders. They think we’re bottled in here and that they can get at us, and that alone will lock them in pursuit. ‘Sides they ain’t gonna leave their soldiers stuck in that hole.”

  “No doubt,” Bear Jim said, “But they won’t never let go of us either. We killed one of them there commissars, and dozens now are dead t’boot. If they return defeated so sorely, and without their commissar, they’re likely to be made slaves or even be put to death. That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”

  “Well,” Redelfis said, “they don’t know these woods and if we can keep them distracted long enough, someone’s bound to notice them and report it to the fyrds.”

  “But that could take a very long time,” Ary replied. “One of us has to get back to our mules at Jim’s cabin and send a pigeon to Witan Jewell. We don’t have enough supplies to sit in siege up here forever. And the Pitters will find a way out of the canyon, then they’ll pillage settlements all the way down the coast.”

  Redelfis volunteered. “I’ll go Ary. The others are too young, and you’ve got the mind for military matters. You ought to stay.”

  Bear Jim looked frightened. “Lad, that’s a dangerous plan. The Pitters’ll be right round and near the path we came up. Some may not have went into the ravine. I should go.”

  “No, Jim,” Arundel said. “I’ll need you to guide us off of here, one way or another, if the Pitters find our trail.”

  “Damn boys. I don’t like this at all. I wish we’d just left those Pitters alone and ridden to escape. Damn! Well, do what you must. You best be goin’ now while it’s dark, Redelfis. Don’t fall to yer death, or I’ll go to my grave a guilty man. I think that landslide broke away the bottom of Raw Top. The trail may not be there for ya.”

  Redelfis was already on his hind foot, ready to leave. “Don’t worry. Give me some rope to climb with. I’m stealthy as a bobcat. I won’t fall and I won’t be seen.”

  * * *

  The sun had just set when Long Swan and Yellow Horse arrived at the gates of the fortress surrounding the Skaldic Academy on Maiden’s Head. At the sight of the familiar white caped rider and his companion, the guards remained relaxed at their stations and saluted as the riders passed.

  Long Swan rode directly into the vast compound and hailed a green beetle messenger boy stationed at the entrance. The boy approached and saluted. Long Swan addressed him by name. “Heremod, I am here on an errand. Do you know the young Jywdic student called Jesse ben David?”

  “I do, my lord,” the skinny fellow declared, “He dines even now with Master Heimdall in the hall. Shall I fetch him to you.”

  “No thank you, we shall go to them in the mess hall. Would you please see to the horses?”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  As Long Swan and Yellow Horse made their way toward the mess hall, lore masters and students began to gather about Long Swan to greet him and wish him well on the sea venture. As they moved down the hallways other students bowed as he passed.

  Assuming a puckish smile, Yellow Horse began to sing, “Long Swan’s pride has got a hold of him now. Do da, do da! He’s gloating like a bloated cow. Do da, do da, day! Very soon his head will blow. All the do da day!”

  “Can’t I enjoy one moment of life without you raining on my day. I swear there must be an ancient law somewhere that shuts the mouth of jesters.”

  “There is such an ancient law.”

  “Well, I’ve never seen it.”

  “It’s called death. You need me Long Swan, to keep you in balance. Besides with the way things have been going, you and I will soon be the only bachelors left in the land. Doesn’t that make you feel a little queer?”

  “Quit with the word play and innuendo. I will gladly be the last man in the land to marry and what if I don’t want to be in balance? Did you ever consider that?”


  “Why I’m here.”

  As they walked into the mess hall the students all stood and bowed their heads in reverence to the white robed lore master. He nodded at them and proceeded to walk over to the table where Heimdall sat with a young Jywdic man. Heimdall lifted a krug of ale to his lips when he caught sight of Long Swan approaching. Quickly, he lowered his krug and stood up to catch the embrace which Long Swan offered.

  “Brother Heimdall,” Long Swan said, “I am here on urgent business.”

  “Yes, Worshipful Master, what is it?”

  “This young man you dine with, is he not the young Jesse ben David?”

  “That he is.”

  “In that case I have this dispatch to deliver him from the Rabbi Amschel ben Levi.”

  Heimdall turned and said, Jesse ben David, this is the rune singer, Long Swan and his compatriot is Yellow Horse, the jester.”

  Jesse nodded, “I have seen him in Ur Ford before.”

  The boy’s expression was one of shock. He was a striking sleek youth with a face dominated by large widely set green eyes and a strong nose framed by the curly payos coming out of his black hat. He was the son of a devout Haredic Jywd. “Lord Long...” the boy choked, “Swaaan!” Then standing, he stretched forth his hand. “It is my great pleasure and honor to meet you.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Long Swan said. “You may not think so after reading this dispatch sent by the Rabbi. He requests you accompany us to the city of Ur forthwith. It seems you come highly recommended as a scribe. I am here to determine that. Perhaps Master Heimdall has a private place where we can all meet.”

  Chapter 20 : The Maiden Voyage

  The first thing Sur Sceaf did on the morning of the launch was to send pigeons with a message to Sur Spear that they would be launching and not likely return until sometime in the next moonth, the Weed Moonth, known in the Roufytrof as the Moonth of Woon’s Ordeal, when the mighty god hung on the World Tree for nine days before he gained total view and obtained the gift of the runes.

  During his stay in Ur Ford, Sursceaf had worked out with the Rabbi and Ruth just what the layout of the various settlements would be. He assigned crew chiefs to begin assembling timber and stone for their building and preparations, but ordered them not to begin construction until his return.

  It was mid-morning. The entire sea front bustled with activity. Sails were snapping, gulls calling while they angled on the breeze, and fishermen launching for their day at the coast. Further out in the Urfyrd Bay, Raven’s Tongue’s large whaling belly ship with its curtains of sails open to the breeze, was about to toss anchor. This was the mother ship where renderers would melt the blubber from the whales into oil fit for the merchants trade. The docks next to the land were long and filled with various types of fishing boats. The two whaling boats they would be taking were lined up parallel to the dock and longshoremen were busy outfitting them with supplies. Sur Sceaf’s whaler flew the honey bee banner and was directly behind Raven’s Tongue’s whaler with the raven/clam banner.

  On the gently rocking Honey Bee, Sur Sceaf stood with the Rabbi and discussed the composition of the crews. Ur Ford’s famous wind had the gulls soaring and swooping. The tangy odors of the sea beckoned them to its depths. Each whaler held thirteen passengers in its long hull of seven man lengths by four man lengths. The boats were pointed at each end for both speed and maneuverability, which was needful whilst pursuing whales across the deep. In the middle of these boats was a center board for adding a sail, when and if needed, so as to give the rowers a rest and gain extra speed. There was the capacity to use twelve rowers at a time when in hot pursuit, but under normal conditions four to each side was sufficient.

  Although Raven’s Tongue was the commander of the mother ship, he had elected to go in one of the two narrow whaling boats so as to mirror Sur Sceaf and assist Turtle Duck in training the leadership in the fundamentals of whaling. If they were to kill a whale, they were to tow it back to the belly ship for rendering, or if more convenient to an isolated section of the shore line where they would employ the trypots, the large cast iron cauldrons used in the trade--provided there were no settlements nearby.

  Near the mothership were the dragon-prowed dragoons of Pyrsyrus’ Pyringian Pirates with their spectacular striped red and white sails unfurling for the day’s training. Surges of excitement ran up and down Sur Sceaf’s back as he waited for the signal to launch.

  Now that the launch day had come, a great number of citizens from Ur had assembled by the port to see the whalers off. Crowds gathered around the adventurers as they worked their way toward their ships. Longshoremen were now bustling on and off the ships and boats, loading the goods, stacking the supplies. A constant rolling rumble assaulted the ears as longshoremen rolled barrels up planks and carried boxes onto the boats. Mules brayed under their loads during the bustle of the docks. Pelicans patiently waited on dock posts for a free meal.

  Nearly all the crew members were on board, their gear safely stowed, when Ilkchild, accompanied as usual by a large contingency of friends, came aboard with his friends. He began stowing his gear into the boat and directing his friends, “Put those cages of pigeons over there by my gear and make sure that you attach at least seven floaters per cage, so they float if they go overboard.”

  Although Sur Sceaf was in deep consultation with the Rabbi, he caught the image of a black woman emerging from the throng, and walking hurriedly toward him with long determined strides. At first he thought it might be Margot, come to wish him off with a farewell. But upon looking closer he realized it was Ann, the wife of Khem Welsh.

  The Rabbi nudged him, “I believe you’re getting a visitor.”

  “Os-Frith and hail, Ann,” Sur Sceaf cried above the wind when she came closer.

  “Os-Frith, Sur Sceaf and you too, Rabbi. Pardon me while I speak my piece, but I’ve got something to get off my chest. Sur Sceaf, I know you were like a father to my husband when he was growing up, and I hope you don’t think me disrespectful. But I have an ill feeling about this expedition. You have a boatload of young men, only slightly younger than my husband, who are unseasoned at sea. Khem is only slightly more experienced than they. You are putting all of their lives in jeopardy because of that.” She put her hands to her hips then sternly warned as she pointed her finger at him. “Sur Sceaf, you know he’s probably the last Black Man on earth, and certainly the only one I’m likely to ever find. We’ve been married for over a year and still don’t have any children, you know. And now, because of you, he’s got it into his head that he wants to be a whaler, no longer content with fishing near shore, but going out there beyond the bend in the sea. I’m told where all the monsters dwell.”

  “Excuse me for a moment, Amschel. He walked down the plank to the dock and gave Ann a hug. “Now Annie, I’ve sworn an oath to shelter and protect all my people, and I’ll be doing all in my power to protect my crew. Khem is a strong and intelligent man with the makings of an excellent leader.” He planted a kiss on her head.

  Some of the heat left her eyes and a reluctant smile broke over her face.

  “You just bring my man and these young bloods back alive, and you and I will be alright again. Now if you’ll pardon me, I said what I wanted to say, and now I’m going to kiss my hubby goodbye and wish him well.” She turned and nearly knocked Crooked Jack over as she stomped off the boat.

  “Surrey,” Crooked Jack said, “the whalers are all loaded and Elf Beard is straining at the leash to get this hunt underway. He’s told me to come over and ‘put some fire in your ass.’ Do you know what the hold up is?”

  “Tell him to be patient. We still have a few men boarding and won’t be launching until the christening by the ladies, and Raven’s Tongue gives us his last minute instructions. Then, he’ll give us the signal to launch.”

  Crooked Jack gave an approving grunt, turned and headed for the dock.

  When Crooked Jack was safely out of earshot, Amschel inquired, “Who was that bent old fellow with the eye
s of a lion and the gravelly voice?”

  “We call him Crooked Jack, he was broken across the back by my horse, his real name is Hrothgar, but he’s also known as Jackie Doo,” Sur Sceaf said, “He’s been one of my father’s most trusted warriors for many years. He has ridden with the elite fighting force of the fyrd as commander of the Baldureans. He replaced me as heretoga or commander of the Witan Jewell fyrds when I took up my commission. He loves the hunt and the excitement of a whale hunt was too much to resist. Initially, my father said he couldn’t spare him, but when my seer stones confirmed that he was to be on my crew, Father relented. The craggy fellow with him, who is looking even more impatient, is Elf Beard, my beloved houndsman friend who taught me the glories of the hunt. I have spent many hours in the woods with him and although he was a stern task master we always got game and I wouldn’t have missed a moment of it. I consider him sort of a second father, if you know what I mean. I’m sure you must have seen him around, usually, surrounded by his dogs and other houndsmen.”

  The Rabbi tweaked his hat and said, “Yes, I know him. They sometimes call him Old Grokk, tougher than old boots. Once killed a mountain lion that was stalking our schoolyard.”

  Sur Sceaf coiled up a rope, carefully running it over his thumb and around his elbow. “Those old boots insisted on joining the expedition. He told me he would give me a solid stomping if I did not let an old friend tag along on such an exciting hunt.”

  The Rabbi raised his dark eyebrows. “Perhaps, not a wise thing to say to a lord, but I thought you told me everyone was oracularly chosen.”

  “Everyone was chosen oracularly, through the seer stones, but it’s reinforcing to let them think they willed it so.”

  The Rabbi chuckled.

  “Elf Beard will prove the delight of any company. He is the most beloved comrade of just about the entire crew. He’s quick of wit, sharp of tongue, and wise of years. If I need the crew to buck up, he’ll see to it that they do. Besides, the Old Grokk will prove to be the life and drive of any hunting expedition. The bond we have forged is stronger than that of brothers. I deemed it unwise to leave on a whale hunt without him.”