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

by Russ L. Howard

  As they approached the gates of Witan Jewell, lurs droned, followed by trumpets blasting, announcing their arrival. Apple-cheeked Herewardi lasses and braid heads showered the entire party with more blossoms. With his heart in his throat, he rode through the gates, his mind full of questions as to what awaited him.

  As soon as he circled the large font, he spotted Swan Ray standing at the top of the wide steps, with Sur Spear. Ilker kicked out of his stirrups, threw his reins to Ilrundel, and Swan Ray came running down the steps into his arms.

  “I never gave up on you.” She hugged him tighter than woodbine.

  He drank in her soul, “You feel so good in my arms again, my queen.”

  “I can wade the molten fires of Hell, but I can never endure your absence again. Alone, I can never be again.”

  Ilker looked deeply into her eyes. “By the Four Horses of Heaven, your beauty endures forever.”

  They kissed and the crowd cheered. Neither could speak another word, as tears poured down their faces. The people went wild with applause and yelling, throwing magnolia leaves up into the air like a thousand green wings in the afternoon sun, carpeting the earth with their greenery.

  Sur Spear walked down the steps then embraced Ilker. “Welcome home, good and faithful warrior.”

  “My king, how great it is to be under the wing of the father of all our freedoms. There are masses of people out there in the Dark Lands hungering and thirsting for the just and good government you have established here in the Free World.”

  “My dear friend Ilker, I am come to praise you, not to be praised. All the glory is thine today. We have quarters for you and Swan Ray in the inn, but before you retire from our presence, please, submit to our welcoming you as a holy warrior.”

  Sur Spear motioned for the chorus of minstrels dressed in their dark blue hooded robes to sing.

  The chorus filed out into the courtyard singing the song, “Praise to the Man Whom the Elves have All Favored.”

  He held tightly to Swan Ray’s hand, unable to speak, so powerful were the feelings of love they held for one another. Instead they would only steal glances and look warmly at one another for short moments only to then swiftly turn away, so as not to collapse with weeping joy.

  Sur Spear announced, “There will now be a welcoming feast of all the invited guests at the Great Hall.” The guests moved toward the Great Hall. Sur Spear lowered his voice, “Ilker, my friend, the Lady Donya has requested a private meeting with you in my study. Swan Ray, I am sure you might attend, if you wish.”

  Sur Spear led them up the stairs of the Shepherd Hall, through the doors to the Ram’s Den, where seated in an ox blood leather chair, Donya suddenly stood with a warm smile.

  Ilker was stunned that she was heavy with child. She was so beautiful to look upon, even when pregnant. Next to her stood his son, Ragnor, and his daughter, Suzzianah, now twelve and eleven winters respectively.

  Donya stretched her hand out to receive Ilker’s and said, “I am so pleased ju are alive, Ilker. Can ju believe these children have grown so much?”

  Ilker bent down to hug the children, who stood limply, as if dazed.

  “It’s alright children, he is jour father,” Donya said, “He won’t hurt ju.” The children looked at Ilker with new curiosity.

  “Well, this must be Ragnor,” he said, drawing the boy to himself. “Do you remember me?”

  A shy, “Yeah” was mumbled.

  Then, reaching over with his other arm, he said, “And this must be Suzzianah.” Ilker wept, then rose again to full height. Swan Ray put her arm around his waist, showing her support.

  Ragnor still eyed him a bit wearily. “Are you to be my father, too?”

  “Yes, I am your sire-fa, and Pyrsyrus shall remain your schutz-fa. Kind of like another fa fa.”

  Donya said with watery eye, “You can see, they bear jour imprint and always will. Their hair is so light. My Lord Pyrsyrus and I should love to have jour company when he gets back. I treasure the time we had together and I should greatly treasure jour continuing friendship.”

  Ilker could feel the pain of this loss in the depths of his soul and he knew how much it also pained Donya. Ilrundel had tried to warn him. And even though he understood, it did not diminish the love he held for her.

  “I too, treasure that time and grieve for the loss of our bond, but I understand and I am glad you are happy and have moved forward with your life. I cannot think of a better man than Pyr.”

  “It was all that I could do, given the circumstances. Ju had to die in my heart in order for me to find the strength to live and love again.” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  Ilker choked to speak, “Pyrsyrus is a lucky man to have won your love.”

  “My love to ju was great, but when I thought jour tree dead, I ripped it up and planted another.” She placed her hand on her belly as she wept. “We have decided to call this child, Pyr-Ilker, in jour honor.”

  Chapter 14 : Herman and the Troll

  Long Swan’s Log: It is the ninth day of the Weed Moonth in the year 584 H.S.O. Last night the wyrm-kats attacked our camp and had to be driven back by torches even though our bonfires were blazing. They grow more and more brazen by the day and seem to be losing any fear of us. We estimate there were in the neighborhood of forty to fifty of them. Several were wounded in our efforts at self-defense, but we refrained from slaying them. As I write this by candlelight inside the beginning of our roughly hewn hall, it is well after midnight. Elf Beard reminds us how valuable his hounds would have been.

  It was dawn this morning when Sur Sceaf addressed the issue. “I insist, the hall must be completed and the roof must be finished by this evening. We have determined, it is not safe for us to sleep this exposed in a land full of trolls. Labor with your might and if you are dead by the night your soul will at least have a safe place to rest in.”

  All hands were thus set to labor on erecting the hall. Some of us hewed down redwoods and shaped them into beams, while Herman, Elijah, and Muryh fashioned them into walls. A structure rose little by little, fifteen paces by twenty four paces.

  All day we labored till the time of candles, then the men built fires a safe distance from the hall and worked the timbers late into the night. Other crew members took turns holding torches as the roof was laid. Mendaka, Xelph, and Govannon patrolled with their bows for wyrm kats which were heard, but never seen.

  The hall was finished three hours on the gourd after midnight, leaving a hole in the north end, for the fireplace to be built tomorrow. We built a fire on the ground inside even without the fireplace, far enough away from the north wall. We lined the wall with rock that they did not have time to mortar, knowing we would require the fire for protection this night. Once all were secure inside, Yellow Horse, and Coyote, with the help of some of the others, hung the hide of the grass beast over a trestle close to the fire so the smoke could hasten the curing of it and in hopes that the smell would serve to shield us from a wyrm-kat invasion.

  Sur Sceaf thanked the men for their diligent labors and sacrifices and told them they would all be a band of brothers forever and henceforth to be known as the Hallers. The men were very pleased with this new calling and showed their approval with cheers as the door of the hall was closed to shut them in, and the wyrm-kats out.

  * * *

  In the flickering light of the hall fire, the beast’s head looked particularly fearsome. Even dead, it carried a ferocious specter about it and caused a great unease to settle in the soul daring enough to look upon it for long.

  As Yellow Horse scraped bits of remaining flesh from the hide, he declared with pride. “Is it not fearful to gaze upon?” He smoothed the fur out with his hand. “Won’t they be impressed in Witan Jewell?”

  Khem stared long and hard at the hide. “We should get an extra honor for just carrying that heavy hide up here, not to mention working those heavy timbers into place. “Without a plane to flatten the edges there are going to be quite a fe
w gaps in those walls, but once this place is thatched it’ll make a nice shelter with just a little chinking. And tonight, it’ll give us some peace of mind.”

  Shark-Moon-Boy’s eyes were wide with fear. Govannon reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone, which he gave to the boy.

  “What is it?” Shark-Moon asked.

  “It’s a magic stone called an Apache tear. It’ll keep you safe from the trolls.”

  Shark-Moon gave an appreciative look at Govannon and commenced holding the stone up to the fire. “I can see through it?”

  “I told you, it is magic.”

  Govannon then related an experience he had in the Apache Lands experimenting with Apache tears. He told Muryh, “it dawned on me how strong this natural volcanic glass is. As I contemplated it, I wondered what the possibility was of making a glass strong enough to build glass tunnels and domes under water with the thought in mind that, if it can be done, then the Herewardi would be able to flee beneath the seas and out of reach of the Pitters altogether.”

  Muryh was intrigued. How far have you progressed with this idea? And did you consider the strength of topaz, corundum, and diamond?”

  “No! No! Certainly not! That would be too costly, but if I could develop a glass by imitating the natural glass formed by volcanoes, then I could shape it anyway I wanted. It’s still just an experiment. It’ll take me several years to work out the kinks and test my hypothesis.”

  “Well, good luck. I’d be very much interested in what type of glass you could suggest for the building of the temple.”

  The two men, one the wizard, the other, the builder were perfect compliments and delighted in teaching each other. Sur Sceaf turned his attention to his Jywdic nephew.

  El Yid joked, “Hopefully, those wyrm-kats don’t reach through these cracks or come down the smoke hole. At least that’s what I’d do if I were a were-kat.”

  “God, I hope not,” Yellow Horse said, looking up from his labors.

  “I’m questioning taking that hide back to Sur Spear,” Crooked Jack expressed. “Are you sure it’s a good idea, my lord, to show the people of Witan Jewell this dread monster’s hide?”

  “Well, that is a question I asked myself, Jackie,” Sur Sceaf said, “but we want the people to know what we are up against here and this will say it all.”

  Elijah looked shocked. “So thou desirest to scare the faint-hearted settlers off? Acquire only the stout of heart?”

  “Perhaps, but everything in life is a risk. I believe in my heart we are meant to have this place. We can tame and subdue it in time, but we need dedicated settlers. One day, I foresee the City of the Gods being built here in the Garden of Idun.”

  Long Swan looked up from his log, “That’s the spirit, my lord.” Soon the scratching of his quill had returned to racing back across the page.

  Sunchild jested, “The hide’ll be our guardian beast.”

  Most of them laughed.

  “It will be most impressive, I’m sure.” Sur Sceaf turned to Shark-Moon. “Did you bring the rest of the tools up from the Raven?”

  Shark-Moon-Boy saluted, “One moment, my lord.” He put his Apache tear away and soon returned carrying two leather mason’s aprons filled with tools. “Well, here they are, my lord, Muryh asked to use them.”

  Red Fox dumped a final load of scrap wood next to the fire. “That should be enough wood to keep the fire going for the night.”

  Sur Sceaf ordered, “Secure the hall doors and let us eat our fill before resting from all of our labors this day.”

  Khem and Herman placed a large beam into wooden brackets to secure the doors and slammed it into lock position.

  Being weary, the crew did not engage in their usual play and talk cycle, but cast their blankets and bed rolls down in the middle of the hall. Flammalf was sitting close to the fire for more light, so that he could sketch a better map of the area they had thus far covered, and to join it to the map Muryh had drawn for a larger picture.

  Sur Sceaf announced, “Before everyone hits the sack, I agree with Khem, you all deserve special honors. I wish to thank you all for your untiring labors this day. It is a monument to all of your good characters. Now go to sleep and tomorrow we’ll take it a little easier.”

  Fromer mumbled, “If Satan’s minions don’t take us in our sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen”

  * * *

  Sur Sceaf was dreaming of his wives and children. He was awakened by a scream that sounded like a crazed panther. He sat up, looked around and saw a coon-like hand reaching through one of the spaces in the wall. Each time the creepy hand poked through a crevice it was accompanied by snarling and vigorous scratching.

  Fromer was sitting up, wide-eyed, too fearful to return to sleep. He screamed out, “I told you those demons would find us in our sleep.”

  “Don’t fret yourself.” Elf Beard sought to calm him. “They can’t get to us in here.”

  Mendaka sat up, “We need to get some sleep. Maybe the trolls will tire of their pestering ways if we ignore them.”

  After sitting for a while, Sur Sceaf realized there was no going back to sleep with all that caterwauling and scratching going on. The wyrm-kats must have been watching them for some time and only now decided to brave an attack. Were they aggressive predators or had they perceived some sort of violation of their turf? Although he hoped the kats would leave them in peace, he feared they weren’t relenting and that a confrontation was fast brewing. Soon each cat cry began to sound more and more like a challenge. Where did all these strange creatures come from?

  Coyote was pondering another question.

  “I cannot understand why we did not encounter any grass beast in the sea cave. And then why was it a great distance into the cave before Ilkchild’s men sighted any signs of these wyrm kats? We are missing something.” The tracker shook his head. “I tell you, my lord, something fiercer than wyrm kats and mightier than grass beast is maintaining that territory in the sea chamber, but what manner of troll it might be I cannot even guess.”

  “But why didn’t we see any tracks?” Mendaka asked.

  “I have no answer for that, but I will tell you this, when I looked above the sea chamber there was a well worn path straight up that cliff wall, and not even a goat could climb that cliff. But then, just a day ago I would not have thought there were trolls that were half-man and half-cat.”

  Xelph muttered so low, it was hard to hear, “If there is another troll, that might explain the bamboo litter on the cave floor. Remember, it looked gnawed upon. And as far as tracks go, we had disturbed the floor too much and likely destroyed the tracks, had we but thought to look.”

  Sur Sceaf noticed Mendaka was looking at Govannon, as if he expected an answer from him. Govannon shrugged. Fromer got up and moved his blanket next to Herman’s. Herman quickly shot him a surprised look of disgust before inching away, leaving Fromer to look like a small boy too afraid to sleep.

  The wyrm-kats continued to howl and caterwaul until the sweet sounds of larks and the other melodies heralded another dawn on the isle. As quickly as the wyrm-kats had come, they were gone with the dawning of the sun. No one rushed to get up, and the guards felt it safe to sleep now. Many crewmen just turned over in their blankets and went back to sleep. Sur Sceaf took cat naps all through the morning, and remained still, working on his notes until noon, so as to allow his men their needed rest from the forced labors of the day before, and the night’s noisy neighbors.

  By the time the sun was overhead all had awakened. Sur Sceaf signed to Yellow Horse to open the doors. Then he signed for Sunchild to open the day in the traditional way. Sunchild stood up, faced the east and proclaimed, “O ye, o ye, o ye! The Lord Sur Sceaf proclaims the day open and the commencement of labors to be at hand.”

  After the men had gone outside to the latrines to relieve themselves they returned for breakfast and the necessary instructions.

  Sur Sceaf charged,
“After we fill our bellies, we shall divide our two crews into three. One group will stay and build corrals and barns, one third will explore the surrounding lands, and the other third part will prepare to sail back to Ur Ford. Govannon, you, and Herman are to stay behind, keep camp, and work on making us an oven. When that is done build corrals. Raven’s Tongue, you will take a crew to Witan Jewell and secure more provisions and report all our findings to Shepherd Hall. Long Swan will accompany you to speak for our cause. Leave any tools and supplies behind, and if Govannon’s crew has time, Herman can haul some of them up from the sea chamber. Raven’s Tongue, will take Turtle Duck, Makah, El Yid, and Horst the Mule Skinner to carry the hides and assist you as needed. Return to this isle with all due haste and bring as many provisions as your boat may carry.”

  He handed Raven’s Tongue a dispatch. “Give this to my wives.” Then singling El Yid out he said, “Zeru, you will stop and inform the Rabbi and my brother, Lord Pyrsyrus, of what’s happening and have them accompany you to Witan Jewell. While you all prepare to launch, we’ll work on making the hall more secure and then on the morrow we will see you off from the stone top.”

  Yellow Horse said, “I thought we were going to explore in the morning.”

  “We are, but we’ll see them off with our blessings first. Then, should you like, we’ll take a team to go exploring in the woods, streams, and savannah lands. We want to get a feel for the terrain of our new world.”

  Elijah’s Log: The eleventh day, in the heat of the Sun Moonth, in the year 584 H.S.,O as reckoned by the Hrusean calendar. In two days Sur Sceaf informeth me they will fly a banner on the hall with the Os rune on it, as a token that the gods are establishing them in strength and beauty in their Woonic Half-Moonth. Although I do not know the harmony-tongued Wessex language of the Herewardi, my brother taught me many of their ways and some nuances of their language. It is very different from our Teutsch or Deutch we write in.