The Isle of Ilkchild (The King of Three Bloods Book 4)

by Russ L. Howard

  The exit was a wide mouthed arch beyond which lay a great mound. At the bottom stretched wide park-like savannah lands for as far as the eye could see. Breaking into the warm sunlight, the crew hastily distanced themselves from the cave. Snarls and cat cries continued to gurgle up from the chamber behind them, but it appeared none of the trolls dared emerge from their dark den.

  Fairchild said, “Perhaps they are afraid of the light.”

  “Let us only hope,” Sunchild said. “I am not sure it is their nature. Maybe it’s only the caves that are their turf, and they no longer perceive us as a threat.”

  “Wait here, I’m going back to get the last one we slew,” Elf Beard said. “We’ve got to get its skin for a trophy or no ones going to believe us.”

  “It’s a demon. It’s not dead. You’ll see!” Fromer shouted.

  “Don’t worry, Brother Fromer,” Elf Beard assured, “you won’t have to go near it. We’ll drag it away from the cave mouth and dress Sunchild’s wounds, eat, rest, and then we’ll deal with this son of a troll-wife.”

  Ilkchild followed. “I’ll cover your back.”

  Just outside the mouth of the cave lay the dead wyrm-kat with bleeding wound to the gut, distended claws, and long pink tongue hanging out of a mouth full of sharp teeth. Seeing no signs of impending attack or aggression, Elf Beard and Ilkchild each took a leg and dragged it to the spot where the others were waiting.

  “Sur Sceaf is not going to believe this troll when he sees it.” Ilkchild said, “but we’ve got all the scars and hide to show for it.”

  * * *

  Sur Sceaf had taken the third watch. He sat on a large lichen covered rock with his kukri blade next to him. The meat had been placed high on a tall stone and the travois was leaning against the stone. Along with the pounding of the surf, whip-poor-wills, and coyotes could be heard in the distance. Once he thought he heard some panthers, but the soughing of the west wind through the branches made it difficult to discern. Occasionally, he watched shooting stars crossing the sky and now and then he even heard the deep ‘uhu’ call of an owl in the nearby wood below them to the west. As the sky started to rise in the east, he went to relieve himself by the cliff. Staring across the cottony fog blanketing the sea, he watched the sun creep over the great deep of Aurvandil. To the south he spotted a flock of pelicans soaring on the wind, which he took as a sign that that was the direction they should head. Masses of seagulls came from all directions, flying to the shore of the large bay, eager to feed on the receding tide. As he looked at the first rays of sun streaming over some large boulders he saw two ravens perched on top of a granite monolith, like sentinels over camp. Have they been there all night he wondered? He saluted them as the harbingers of Woon.

  The crew was still wrapped in their bedrolls. The fire was a mere glow of coals. Soon he would build up the fire and call the crew to their labors. He basked in the glory of a new day, in what he truly believed was to be their new home. The excitement was difficult to contain. Everywhere he looked was promise. Yes they had the terrifying encounters with the shark-wyrm and the grass beast, but the wyrm could be avoided, and they knew now that the grass beast could at least be conquered. He was intentioned to make what the stones showed him a reality.

  He turned his face towards the breeze coming in from the west. The morning sun bathed the white column. In the distance the snowy peak gleamed like the Rainbow Bridge to heaven. His heart exulted, All-Father Odhin was, indeed, affirming the revelations of his stones.

  Raising his arms to a swan square he offered a morning prayer before building up the fire and awakening the camp. After a quick breakfast of oat flakes in kefir they broke camp and prepared to move on.

  “We’ll head due south up and over this stone top.” Sur Sceaf announced, “I received an omen from the gods, that this was the direction we should be moving in.” Instinctively, he looked up at the top of the monolith, but the ravens had already departed.

  “Elijah, please record that I named that snow capped mountain to the west, the Great Sire Throne, and that in the sacred tongue it is to be called Elflohana, the Mountain of Our Elf God, according to the stones.”

  After Elijah made the requested notation, Sur Sceaf lead the way up the path, which twisted and turned as it wound ever upward, passing gnarled and twisted junipers growing out of the almost solid granite rock. Although the landscape was stark and naked til it ran afoot the forest, it had great beauty.

  When they reached the edge of the wood, they heard the rush of swiftly moving waters. Following the bend in the path, they came upon a gushing stream running out of the mountains of the west. The stream was two man lengths wide and ran parallel to the trail. Most likely it originated from the enormous mountain shaft of Elflohana off in the far distance. The crystal clear water had an iridescent teal green shimmer that reminded him of Lana’s eyes. The powerful stream had cut its way through the rock and cut a race out of the large stone ridge they were climbing, and angled to the southeast.

  Sur Sceaf knelt on the mossy bank, cupped his hands and took a drink. “Refreshingly cold and sweet, slightly alkaloid. Let’s fill our flasks.”

  Muryh knelt beside him for a drink before taking his flask from his belt. “Here we are in the dog days of summer and this stream is flowing powerfully. That means it has even more power in the green cup of spring. If we harness and tap into these waters, we can build reservoirs, water wheels, and irrigation canals.”

  Red Fox pointed out, “Is this confirmation enough for you, Brother Elijah?”

  Elijah smiled. “Well, it’s certainly a positive sign.”

  After studying the surroundings thoughtfully, Muryh nodded as though answering a question he had asked himself. “I’m certain I can construct an aquaduct up and over that rock top.”

  Xelph wandered off to examine some herbs and forbs growing in a mossy enclave of moist rocks. He exclaimed, “Look here, on the ground!”

  The crew gathered near him and discovered brilliantly colorful small frogs hopping for cover. Some were green and black, others blue and still others red. A few were a vibrant yellow.

  “There is powerful medicine to be found in these frogs, or nature would not have painted them so colourfully, nor made so many. We must discover this medicine. Govannon will likely know how.” Xelph’s excitement was obvious.

  Hartmut asked in a curious tone, “Dost thou truly think that such a lowly creature hath healing medicine within it. Because in our Holy Scriptures, it is written that frogs are unclean animals and betoken unclean spirits.”

  Elijah noted, “The raven has been considered an unclean animal too, but did it not feed the Prophet Elijah in the wilderness?”

  Red Fox looked over his shoulder, “What say you, Khem? You have been schooled in both Quailor and Herewardi healing arts.”

  Khem removed his fisher’s hat and scratched his head. “I’m not the expert Xelph is, but from what I have gleaned, I too, believe these creatures have magic inside of them. But whether for ill or good, I do not know. The writing of the Earth Mother is clearly upon them. Else why would they stand out so pronounced among all the other creatures.”

  “But nature hath clearly marked the venomous serpents as well.” Hartmut persisted.

  Sur Sceaf caught his eye. “Hartmut, the great lore master, Aegthjiof, believes that venomous serpents are filled with healing powers.” He turned to Elijah. “Please record that I have named this stream, ‘Hrus’, which is the abbreviated form of Howrus, so as not to fully speak it aloud before the profane, but to always honor the sacred memory. Also make note of this place, so that we may examine the potential healing properties of these frogs at a later date.”

  Elijah shrugged out of his pack and took out his journal. Before making his notation, he said, “Sur Sceaf, may I speak unto thee and Mendaka, privately, for a few moments.”

  “Of course you may.” Sur Sceaf turned to beckon Mendaka with a sign to join them.

  The three of them walked into the wood and
sat on a fallen fir log where they were just out of earshot of the others. “I can see something troubles you, Brother Elijah.”

  “I wast wondering, if thou mightest check thy stones again to verify this is the place we are supposed to be.”

  “It is good that you are seeking confirmation. I consider that appropriate and prudent given all that is at risk,” Sur Sceaf said. “All revelations should be carefully weighed. Your request shall be honored.”

  Mendaka placed a hand on the high priest’s shoulder. “Elijah, for as long as I have known Surrey, these stones have always been true.”

  “I dispute this not, but this is such an important turn that I must know in mine own heart that this is where we are meant to be. So I can return with a conviction to convince my people.”

  Sur Sceaf pulled the stones out of the lambskin pouch attached to his belt and held the stones cupped in his hand and waited for an image to form.

  “What is it? What seest thou?”

  Sur Sceaf narrowed his gaze in concentration. “I see a great wall built right here where we are sitting with large keeps and a great gate. Then on this very rock top and above I see a mighty fortress surrounding a palace of exquisite beauty.” He paused, waiting as the image shimmered and shifted. “Now looking from this palace to the south, I see a beautiful faery-mound upon which stands a glorious temple in the shape of the Mark of Hrus and the nations of the main land are declaring, ‘Come, let us go up to the House of the Herewardi and there obtain their laws and be free’.” Sur Sceaf again paused as another image took form. “To the south of this place I see a great lake surrounded by forests and savannah lands which is teeming with wild game.” He paused again, “I see an ancient grey oak and a great manor.” He was silent for a while, then smiled. “Elijah, I see you on a fertile farmstead with fat horned cattle and woolly sheep, a large garden, and busy beehives, a happy wife and numerous grandchildren.”

  “Tis enough,” Elijah exclaimed, “by God, I could not have imagined such revelatory powers even existed. Fromer would surely call this witchery. But he did not know Ludwig as I did. Now I know, if we get on the other side of this stone top and see a large mound, a lake, and savannah lands, it will be enough for me. Then I will be a believer.”

  Mendaka smiled, “I have no doubt it shall be so. Your heart is open, Brother Elijah, you were worthy to have these things revealed to you. Not everyone who inquires of the stones is granted an answer from the gods. Fromer shall be left in darkness, for the Norn Sisters have placed scales over his eyes and they will hold no traffic with the likes of him.”

  Sur Sceaf was overcome with anticipation and joy. He returned the stones to the lambskin pouch, tied it securely, and the three joined the others.

  After Elijah made the requested notations, they set out again, following the path upward. Just before they reached the pass over the top, the stream fell off to the right, flowing downward over the rocks in a series of small waterfalls. At the top the path flared out across the crest.

  Sur Sceaf called a halt and pointed ahead. He shaded his eyes before the sun and gazed upon the brilliantly green panorama spread out below. To the east ran a series of densely forested ridges with a mixture of oak, madrone, redwoods, and fir. To the west laid the large shaft of Mount Elflohana radiating to the south in an undulating series of chaparral covered hills. Between the ridges to the east and the hills to the west laid the enormous open valley at the head of which rose a beautiful large, egg-shaped, grassy mound. And beyond the mound to the south was a great lake of shimmering, azure waters, out of which ran a wide river through a chain of smaller lakes.

  The large valley was mostly savannah land interspersed with great ceiba, eucalyptus, and agathis trees. Scattered throughout the valley were numerous oak groves and clusters of tall coconut and wine palms swaying in the breeze.

  Elijah’s eyes grew wide with amazement, “Surrey, I now haveth a living testimony that thou art a true seer. Indeed, this is the place. Thou art a true messenger of God, and will lead us to further light and knowledge. Blessed is thy name, forever, for flesh and blood hath not revealed this to me, but the Holy Spirit hath made it known in here.” He pointed to his heart.

  “What we heathen call the Ur Fyr.”

  Mendaka pronounced, “And we Sharaka, the Great Spirit! So let it be written!”

  Khem deposited his heavy pack of meat on the ground next to the hide and stood with hands on hips, a frown dominating his dark face. “Sur Sceaf, both Xelph and I have decided, it is not natural that many of those trees should be growing here. Even from this distance, I number four at least that are trees of the far southern climes only. How came they to grow here?”

  “Perhaps God planted this place.” Hartmut postulated. “The same as is described in the Holy Scriptures about Eden.”

  Elijah’s eyes twinkled, “Brother Fromer will be hard pressed to deny the power of the stones and the Ur Fyr after this.”

  Hartmut shrugged. “If I know Fromer, he could see evidence at mid-day and still deny it. I’m sure he’ll only see the serpent and not the garden.”

  Elijah laughed. “Even if there isn’t one.”

  Sur Sceaf announced, “We better find a place to set up our camp before midday. We need to set up a base camp for operations. And Muryh, please make a rough map of our trail so we can give it to Flammalf when the other group arrives. Red Fox, you mark the trail.”

  At that, everyone picked up their gear and headed down through the bushes, which grew larger and thicker and with greater variety than anywhere else on earth.

  Parting the bushes, they found that a branch of the stream had cut its way between the stone top and the grassy mound. They crossed it at a narrow spot and headed up on the north bulge of the great oval mound. When they crested the top, Mendaka marveled, “This place is truly like the Garden of Grand Father and Grand Mother God in the morning of days.”

  Jackie Doo cleared his throat, “I’d say. The perfect place for an old man to lay his silver hair at the end of his days. I think I should like to find my grave in this land.”

  When they all reached the top, Sur Sceaf stood and said, “We must find the true center of this mound.”

  After some measures and pacing off by Muryh, he indicated the most likely center.

  Sur Sceaf declared, “This mound shall hence forth be called Godeselle, for it is like the primordial faery-mound of the first man and the first woman. The god of the Herewardi established it so that the arches of the fair roof of heaven protect it. From here shall be the navel of my government over this holy land.”

  Sur Sceaf took off his pack, strung his bow, and took four arrows from the quiver. A different symbol marked each one, consisting of a wheel, a wisent, a golden sun, and a black sun respectively. He explained, “Men and brethren, these four arrows each represent a different people who will all be bound as one. Come place your hands around them with me before I give them wings.”

  Mendaka placed his hand under Sur Sceaf’s, Elijah placed his hand around the arrows and underneath Mendaka’s hand. Finally, Sur Sceaf nodded at Red Fox, who placed his hand around the arrows below the hand of Elijah. “These four arrows symbolize the joining of Herewardi, Sharaka, Quailor, and all the other nations of the main land who join in our confederacy.”

  Each responded with a “So mote it be” or an “Amen.”

  He then fired an arrow to each of the four directions of the heavens and declared, “All the land within the bounds of these four arrows on this mound is holy and shall be for the building of the temple I scryed. For this is the place the stones revealed the temple shall be erected in strength and beauty. Here, where I stand shall be raised the obelisk of Hrus-Syr-Os, to be erected before the Table of Laws that has come down from the ancient times through the Fathers.”

  “Sur Sceaf,” Muryh declared, with an ecstatic look on his face, “I misjudged you. I will build the City of the Gods here for you as payment for my lack of faith. Let’s get started right away.”

>   “Patience, Master Builder. All things come in their time and place. First we must settle here.” Sur Sceaf felt only gratitude and promise in his heart as he uttered, “Friends and fellow sojourners, let us call this sacred island, ‘The Isle of Ilkchild.’ For his marvelous deliverance will be a testimony to generations yet to come that though we be swallowed up by death, tyranny, apostasy, or the mouth of hell, yet shall we go forth conquering and to conquer in the name of our ancestors.”

  Hartmut and Elijah said, “Amen and amen.”

  The rest followed with, “So mote it be!”

  * * *

  Sur Sceaf decided they would camp at the foot of the mound in a grove of hawthorn near the stream and by a patch of what the Quailor call heckle and the Herewardi call teasel. This would allow them to explore the surrounding area and use it as their base camp. By the time they had their camp set up, their stomachs began to rumble so they decided to take their midday meal before exploring any further.

  Before Hartmut began preparing the meal, he passed around hardtack which required no cooking and gave them something to munch on. Xelph and Jackie Doo collected wood and built a fire. Khem strung pieces of meat on some paw paw saplings and lined them up for the fire.

  Sur Sceaf checked to see how much ale they had packed. He was disappointed in that so little was left to celebrate with. Turning to Xelph, he asked, “Do we have anymore ale left in the cave?”

  “I think not my lord, we drank most of it that the first night. Probably should have rationed it better.”

  Elijah observed. “Surrey, it often wondereth me that a man with thy refined palate can endure such fare as hard tack and jerky for so long.”

  “Elijah, you must know that Mendaka, Wose, and I have oft spent many moonths in the wilds of the Arid Zone and up high in the Rockies where our only fare is what we could hunt or scrounge from the wild. This palate has seen more than its share of ants, grasshoppers, and rattle snake on the one hand and then enjoyed the dainties my wives make me on the other.”