The Bok of Syr Folk

by Russ L. Howard

  Ysys turned to look directly at him, and pressed his hands between both of hers. Her eyes were troubled and so dark they were nearly purple. “It’s just... that once I almost joined with a man named Ashim, the son of Ychstein and descendent of Leahcim, of Eng-Ness. My father refused to give his permission due to Ashim’s violation of sacred trusts, although I loved him, I chose not to marry him. It was the hardest decision I ever made.”

  Long Swan was stunned, then reminded himself that he too, had been engaged once. “What do you mean by violation of sacred law?”

  Ysys-Ka turned toward Long Swan with a look of shame. “Ashim perverted the ways of the Chartreuseans by gathering together a band of followers who used the medicinal herbs inappropriately and shared secrets of the medicine knowledge unlawfully with the uninitiated as had his ancestor, Leahcim.

  We practice what is called The Shunning to punish or correct offenders such as Leahcim, Ychstein, and Ashim, so our joining was refused by the majority of the villagers who had not known of my decision to not join him before their voting. Ychstein and Ashim vowed revenge, and left Eng-Ness for their secret camp in the marshes of Planck on the coast. That was eighteen moons ago and since then they have built their own community of Awr-Gain. My father has told me that his followers were a slimy lot of men and women who spit on our customs and live only for immediate gratification in slothful, poverty stricken hovels, abusing the sacred drugs.”

  “I told you about Faehunig and how deeply I once loved her. Can you say the same of Ashim.”

  Ysys-Ka seemed uneasy. “I know that Ashim once infected my heart. We were betrothed lovers. In our culture, it is a difficult matter to have the promise of marriage, sworn to one another, be broken. No power can break it, but the will of both lovers. Though I loved him, I could not bear the thought of being banished from my village to live in the marshes like a marsh rat because the man I loved was guilty of simony which in our culture means trafficking in sacred things and revealed holy knowledge?”

  “A wise choice, but one I would expect you to make.”

  “Yes, that’s the difference between you and Ashim. He just took it for granted I’d marry him. And I must admit, at that time, even though I fully understood my father’s reasoning and that his refusal of permission to marry was to protect me from a life of unbearable agony, that knowledge was no comfort to me.” She paused and watched a school of otters passing on the swift current. “My heart died within me from the love sickness I bore Ashim. I grew thinner and thinner. Life had no joy. I wept at the foot of my bed every night.”

  She could have been describing Long Swan. “Believe me, I understand. When love was denied me, I strangled any part of myself that could feel and buried myself in books and made learning my only passion.”

  He could tell by the slight easing of the tension in her face that she had been uncertain of his reaction and perhaps even feared it.

  “It shames me to relate that even though I promised my father, I did not have the power to banish him from my life. When he would come to me in the night, I did not have the strength to send him away. Finally, we began plotting to run away into the marshes. I was so sure we were being clever in our planning, but we were not clever enough. My father noticed I no longer hid in my room and pined. He grew suspicious and asked me if I had been secretly meeting with Ashim. I evaded the question without actually lying. I thought I had put his suspicions to rest, but the next day my father arranged for me to be sent to Ele-Anor-Ness as an ambassador to the queen and to learn from the Iluloika. Had my father not done so, I would now, this day, be forever bonded to a man I disdain.” She turned her head to the left and gazed off toward the crater, saying in her soft voice, “The queen healed my heart and breathed life and hope back into it. I am eternally grateful that she helped me break a bond I was incapable of breaking on my own.”

  Her open countenance made Long Swan believe her. “Then I, too, owe the queen a debt of gratitude and hope to openly express that in her presence someday.”

  “Perhaps you shall, for she prophesied before I healed, the man I shall marry will be a spirit of great renown and arrive in the company of the Morning Star.”

  Long Swan laughed, a bit self-consciously. “Well, that’s a lot to live up to. But for now, this spirit of no renown whatsoever can only think about how much he wishes to be joined to you.” Long Swan dropped to one knee. Taking both of her hands, he looked up at her and smiled. “It is the custom among my people to formally ask for a lady’s hand through a harrow stone, but since we have none, this will have to do.” He gently squeezed both of her hands and said, “Ysys-Ka daughter of Eyf, Chief of Arym Gael, will you join me, Long Swan the Herewardi, son of Sur Spear, the hereditary king and high lord of the Herewardi Realms?”

  With her eyes brimming in tears, she whispered, “It would be my true joy.”

  * * *

  Long Swan ran back to his tent to dress in his finest for his anticipated meeting with Chief Eyf. As he came into camp, he noticed Xelph’s pack mule so weighted down by specimens that one more straw laid to its back would have surely caused it to go sway back. Stepping into the pfalz tent he found himself alone with Xelph, who was preoccupied with pressing a specimen.

  Long Swan said, trying to subdue his joy. “Hail and Os-Frith, Xelph.”

  “Frith to you, Goosey,” Xelph shot back, but continued studying the herb in hand. It had the appearance of Syrean Rue.

  Long Swan watched for a moment as he counted the pistils and stamens and examined the herb for both smell and taste. He debated with himself as he tried to gauge Xelph’s mood before deciding to plunge ahead. “Xelph I never meant for this to all go down the way it has. I’ve been where you are. I know how painful that is. I agonized over Saxwulf taking Faehunig from me. For six long years, I have tortured myself with thoughts of inadequacy, rage, and jealousy that twisted my soul four ways to Hellheim.”

  He paused to see if Xelph would respond. When he didn’t, Long Swan carried on. “Don’t do what I did. Now, looking back, I can see I was the wrong person for Faehunig and Saxwulf was ever so right for her. They’ve lived a very happy and fulfilled existence and it’s taken me until now to realize that.”

  Xelph shrugged his shoulders and remained unresponsive.

  Long Swan gritted his teeth before continuing. “Forgive me my friend. For my part, I still consider you a brother and hope to regain the friendship we once shared.”

  When Xelph continued his disinterested silence, Long Swan walked over to his trunk and took out his best white shirt and brown leather pants. After he was dressed, he girded his loins with his red sash, the token of his royal bloodline. As he turned, he caught Xelph flicking a glance in his direction. He reached in and adjusted himself and said, “I don’t remember these pants being this tight when we left Godeselle.”

  “Maybe you need to cut down on all those goodies Ysys keeps bringing you.”

  At least it wasn’t a bitter retort. So he simply smiled and wished Xelph a pleasant day.

  As he walked the trail to Eyf’s village, he passed Sunchild teaching Khem to fight with staves. They paused and Sunchild let out a wolf whistle. “Going to see the little lady, I see.”

  Long Swan noted that Khem frowned. He grinned, but didn’t stop to chat. It was a ten minute walk to the village gate. As he neared the stick fence, the trail became more crowded, villagers passed by him with baskets of roots and fruits on their heads. Children who recognized him smiled and chanted, “Long Swan, Long Swan, Long Swan.”

  He smiled and waved at the children who returned to plucking and trimming the tips and pips of the tea hedges.

  Pelargoniums and cymbidiums grew on either side of the well-trodden path leading to Eyf’s dooryard. Long Swan discovered Eyf and his wife, Perle-Ka were working on their panned plants. As he approached them, he considered what Ysys’ people would think of him marrying her. He fully expected some measure of surprise or even shock. After all, they must think of him as being very for
eign. It dawned on him, he couldn’t recall if he had told Ysys and her parents of the Herewardi practice of taking more than one wife. Not that it mattered, he realized, he would only take another wife after the Chartreuseans had grown accustomed to him as Ysys’ husband and then, only at Ysys bidding and he was sure she would never expect him to give up his red sash by being a monogamous man. The mere thought went rancid on his tongue.

  “Os-Frith! Chief Eyf and Perle-Ka.”

  “A leaf magic day to you, Long Swan, you look as fancy as an Ele-Anorean in your white shirt and brown leather britches,” Chief Eyf said with a smile. “We were just pinching buds and cutting the leaves in half on our panned plants so that they will come out smaller in the spring.”

  Perle-Ka added, “Ysys-Ka is not here. We thought she had gone to walk with you. I’d send Yorel to help you find her, but he took his collies to move the sheep into a larger fold and hasn’t got back yet and Siwel is dallying with his future bride.”

  Long Swan’s face grew warm and hornets rattled in his stomach. “Actually, she was with me. That is why I am here.” He took a deep breath before declaring, “I am seeking permission to join with Ysys-Ka as my wife and she has accepted.”

  Eyf dropped the panned tree, and the pot shattered into shards, knocking the dirt off the root ball. “Oh Long Swan, you shock us. This is all too new for us. I saw you two growing together, but thought it would not hurry like this. It is so unprecedented and unique to us. So sudden. Way too fast.”

  “I realize that, but I have only twenty-one days till I leave.”

  “No one has ever married an outlander before so I cannot gauge either their vote or opinion. We believe you are a good people, but know very little of your ways.”

  Eyf glanced at Perle-Ka who had dropped onto a wicker bench and was staring at him with her mouth agape. After shutting her mouth with a snap, she said, “We’ve known this was a strong possibility. When Ysys wanted to marry Ashim, we intervened to protect her. Her choice then was that of an impulsive girl, but now her choosing is seasoned with better judgement. Her time with the Ele-Anoreans has matured her much, so I can now trust she is making a well thought out decision.” She glanced at her husband, who nodded.

  “It is true, we can find no fault in you. But I must warn you of the Custom of Winnowing whereby you will be brought before the whole community and have to face off anyone who objects to this joining for any reason. It can be a harrowing process.”

  Eyf looked over at Perle-Ka for a moment. At her slight nod, he continued, “You have no idea how hard it is for my people to even accept the Ele-Anoreans and they are of the same blood as us, which is meant as no reflection on you, but this will not be easy. We are a memory culture, unfortunately, I know of no precedent for a marriage of a Chartreusean to an outlander. It seems so queer. I mean what will the children be? Will they be green or white.”

  Once again he glanced at his wife who appeared equally troubled. “When your ship comes for you, will you take our daughter with you to your land or will you remain among us?”

  It was a question Long Swan had anticipated and knew there was only one possible answer. “I hold a high office in my land and therefore, we will live among my people as duty dictates, but I swear, we shall return often.”

  Perle did not look pleased. “And what of my daughter, how will she be received by your people?”

  “I foresee no problem there. As I explained to Chief Eyf, the sages, and the sisters when we met privately, we welcome new people into our fold.”

  Perle-Ka lifted her eyebrows as if conveying some sort of communication and Eyf immediately explained, “Before I offer my permission for the joining, you must promise me that you will not go against the voice of the people and try to take Ysys unlawfully, like Ashim did. Only then you will have our blessing upon your marriage, Long Swan.”

  Long Swan answered, “I love her with all my soul and will do everything in my power to always protect and comfort her. And that is why I would never do anything that would shame her. I feel in here,” he struck his chest, that the Three Sisters have spun our love.” He then realized they did not comprehend the Norn sisters, nor their workings.

  Eyf said, “Of course you know before any joining can take place you must pay the bride-price.”

  “What would that be?”

  “People usually pay in sheep, goats, or alpacas.”

  “What about this elf blade?” Long Swan unsheathed it and whacked though a thick branch of oak.

  Eyf’s eyes grew big. “I believe that would do very nicely.”

  “Then to further show my appreciation, I’ll bring a kettle, a large metal cooking pot, for Perle.”

  Perle-Ka smiled warmly. Eyf glanced at her briefly, as if for approval. “In that case, I will get the conch shell to announce a winnowing set for two days from now.”

  Long Swan bowed. “I thank you for your confidence.”

  Chapter 14 : Juan Carlos de Sajones

  The Pirate Captain, Juan Carlos de Sajones, took great pleasure in his home at Teahwana in the Mexus, a pumpkin colored hacienda, and his newly planted flower bed of Geraniums out front with orange flowering pomegranate bushes planted at each corner. It was high noon and sparrows chirped cheerfully in a beautiful blue palo verde tree next to the porch of the hacienda. The day was already blistering hot. Juan walked down the steps, crossed the tiled courtyard to the hand pumped well in the center. After opening his ruffled white shirt, he splashed a bit of the water on his chest to cool off, careful not to splash his blood-red sash and sleek black pants or spit shined polished boots. He was known by all the locals as the Don. It was an earned title of respect and honor which he sought to be worthy of. He pumped water into his cupped hands and sipped gingerly.

  Although he had risen before dawn, the hot tempered little dancer he had bedded the night before had not shown herself this morning. Plenty of women sought his company, but they all seemed so shallow, so interested only in his wealth and his name as a famous toreador. He enjoyed his flings with these women, but it was never anything deeper than the fresh coat of paint he had recently applied to his home. For years he had attempted to fill the void in his heart by taking women of all types to bed, but the void only grew more and more hungry. He thought about how his padre, Gavilla, had already had five children by his age. It worried him that he had not even found a wife to live in this beautiful nest.

  Bright yellow finches wrestled over mates in the dust under a nearby cashew tree, which was loaded with boat-tailed grackles sending up a chorus of cheer. Killing time, he strode over to the large horse trough, dipped the waiting bucket in and drew water for the spreading red bougainvillea vines that ran up over the trellis attached to his porch. The sound of horse hooves approaching compelled him to turn. A rider rode up the dusty road from Capistrano at an exceeding urgent pace. Through the dust stirred up by the iron clad hooves, Juan recognized the rider as Lieutenant Jose Maria Bernardo on his black mare, appearing like he was part of the horse in his black uniform. Juan managed to ladle out three buckets of water for his bougainvillea before Jose arrived.

  Jose dismounted, tied his horse to the bullhead hitch, his eyes darting back and forth, “El Capitan, I wish to report a band of one hundred and twenty Pitters are riding this way. Shall we hide all the wealth?”

  “Thank you, Jose, it will not be necessary. I have already taken the necessary precautions. The truth is, I was expecting them. When they arrive, escort their leaders into my office. We will meet them in there.”

  Jose took off his black flat topped hat, reached into the horse trough and splashed water to cool off his hot face. “I do not like these Pitters, El Capitan. Can we trust them?”

  “Never, Mi Amigo! They are vicious as the demons of Hell. But we can trust their gold and if all goes as planned, I shall have them lapping at my feet like the mangy curs they are and begging me for scraps. Yes, we are their hosts and it will be painful to be polite to such inferiors, but I will be filling my shi
ps with more of their gold monies than you and I can even count. Escort them in when they arrive. And Jose, ensure that you conceal your contempt.”

  “Si, El Capitan.” Jose said with a sharp salute, his eyes reflecting concern over the wisdom of his captain.

  “Uno momento, Jose, let the Pitter soldiers park their mounts over by the blue gums beyond the walls. I do not want their troops within the walls of my hacienda or near the living quarters of my men and certainly nowhere near my stables. Only permit their leaders to enter. They are certain to grow envious of my superior horseflesh compared to those decrepit nags they ride and may wish to commandeer them. Tell Rodrigo to post a guard of vaqueros and to cleverly disguise their weapons.”

  “Si, El Capitan. I’ll tell the men to close the gates of the stockade and not let anyone in or out until the Pitters leave.”

  At point one on the sundial, Jose led three tall black cowled figures through a side door into Juan’s office located at the end of one of the wings. Forcing a smile, Juan looked up from his desk. He could almost feel the darkness that emanated from the black specter-looking figures that stood before him in their sinister black robes. They proudly sported the Sahle Mark of Ish emblazoned on the chest of their robes as an emblem of their authority and power.

  The three tall figures were followed by two other black-robed figures carrying a rough hewn wooden money chest between them. They set the chest down between them, each grinning like a carnivore before it eats its prey. Pendajos, little do ju know, ju have just swam into my minnow trap.

  “Please, gentlemen, take a seat. I am Juan Carlos de Bavar de Sajones. Shall I send for some cafe or chocolat?”

  The one with the hairy grey mole on the tip of his nose and the black unibrow stepped forward. “No, both are poisonous to Pitter stomachs. I’m surprised you don’t know that?” After seating himself he said, “I am Sanangrar, Commissar of the Taxus and the Mexus.”

  Juan lifted an eyebrow at their crude disregard for courtesy. “How can I be of service to you, gentlemen?”