Syr Elf whispered to Mendaka holding his index finger to his mouth, “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?”
Lana smiled, “What’s this young lad whispering, and who is he? And, pray, tell me, what are those gorgeous creatures thou hast here on leash, my boy?”
“It is none other than I, Syr Elf, my lady, son of Rusyrus, son of Muryh. And these are my cats, Elflocks and Faelocks. We named them after the faery tale of the dead lovers over at Maiden’s Head. But, usually we just call them El and Fae. I’m going to show them to my uncle the pirate and I have some secret messages for him.”
“I am sure ye men must keep to your secrets, young Prince, but I smell a Mendaka tale hidden herein somewhere.”
Mendaka grinned big. “Not this time, my lady. Not this time.”
She turned her attention back to Sur Sceaf. “Why standest thou here naked in only a robe and moccasins?” She placed her cupped hand to her mouth. “I know, I shouldn’t have asked, but it’s a formal ceremony. I do wish thou wert more clothed when meeting Pyr’s wives. But under these circumstances, I suppose it will have to do.”
“You’re letting your Quailor upbringing show now, my dear, Pyr knows me and will not judge.”
“It’s just that I travel with Pyrsyrus’ troop of wives, and a young medicine woman called Face-of-Stars. They’ll all pity me if they see you thus attired like unto some aged man.”
He laughed, “I hardly think so. Now, tell me, was your journey safe?”
“There are not too many dumb enough to face a fyrd, and travel was easy enough. I have very much enjoyed coming to know Pyrsyrus’ family and hearing of all the trials they have endured in life. Thy brother is yearning to greet thee, but the queen insisted he wait while she spake with him first.”
“Then let us go greet my brother. I can think of no greater gift from the gods than his joining our league of confederates.” Sur Sceaf circled his arm on Lana’s shoulder for added support as they crossed the alley into the courtyard. He enjoyed the warmth and comfort she always emanated.
Syr Elf and the cats darted ahead. He looked back and said, “They’ve already finished the welcoming ceremony. Mother will need the otter cats.”
Sur Sceaf waved his hand. “Go my boy, be off. Don’t wait for us any longer.”
Lana said, “My lord, I am thrilled to be here with thee. I know Sur Spear counseled thee not to take any of thy wives with thee, but then Paloma and Redith insisted that thou wouldst need one of us to go and comfort thee.”
As they passed the windows in the infirmary, Sur Sceaf spotted Gisela through the panes and unfortunately she spotted him. “Oh no! She spotted me.”
Lana asked, “Who spotted thee?”
“The blond harpy, Gisela.”
She quickly set down a tray of medicines and rushed to the door. He tried to quicken his pace, but it was too late.
“Where do you think you are off to in your condition, Young Prince?” She called to him from behind.
“Damn!” Sur Sceaf said under his breath. Mendaka grinned and Lana looked at him strangely. Sur Sceaf stopped and made an abrupt about face. Gisela stormed towards him with a stern look on her face. “Give it up Gisela,” he ordered firmly, and thanked the gods the strength had returned to his voice. “I appreciate all the good care you and Flicka have given me, but my brother awaits me and critical affairs of state supersede the affairs of medical protocol. I’ll be just fine now. You can return to work.”
As she halted right in front of him he could swear he detected a slight curl to her thin lips. Perhaps she wasn’t as humorless as he thought.
“I’ll make sure of that,” she said, “because I’m going to accompany you. The queen gave me an order to be on you like a chicken on a stinkbug and that’s what I’m going to do. As soon as I can, I will consult with her, and if she has no problem with you leaving your sick bed prematurely, then I don’t care either. Until then I will be your nurse shadow. Now you mark that!”
Sur Sceaf sighed. Lana looked puzzled. Mendaka shrugged. Gisela marched. Then Sur Sceaf and Lana walked on with Mendaka following and Gisela walking beside him. As they walked past the kitchen where the cooks were preparing the food for the great feast in honor of the guests, the mingled scents of onions, celery, and barbequed mutton was titillating his nostrils and made his mouth water. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good dinner.
By the time they came to the pavilion, the welcoming ceremony was, indeed, over, and the crowds were dispersing into the streets with the queen’s harlequin jester, Celswith by name, still entertaining the children by tossing seed above hisself in mockery of the seed tossing ceremony held for the visiting king.
Crowds of people were just dispersing and school children were being ushered back to school by their teachers. Pysyrus’ troupe of bride-sisters stood to one side of the pavilion chatting and laughing with Va-Eyra’s ladies in waiting. His old friend, Jackie Doo, the over-all commander of the Witan Jewell fyrds was laughing at something the jester had just said. Sur Sceaf felt a rush of nostalgia and affection for his big brother, who dominated the group on the pavilion. Whether dressed in work clothes as he labored beside his stonemasons, or dressed as befitted his regal stature, he was always the center of attention. The tallest of Sur Spear’s sons, he stood a good head and shoulders above most men, including his many other brothers. Lean of body, broad of shoulders, and according to his mother, Aethelfae, he strongly resembled Howrus as portrayed in the paintings in the Sacred Crypt of Witan Jewell. The very archetype of Herewardi kings with his boldly chiseled features, a long mane of dark walnut colored hair worn in the traditional way of a Herewardi warrior with the two side braids pulled back and held by an ornate hair claw featuring his device of a castle. His mother said he was a knight, a godhi priest, and a king. Pyr, though never disrespectful of the fae-mother, rejected the comparisons, and as a young blood would punch any of his brothers who mockingly compared him to Howrus or Elrus. Next to his father, Sur Sceaf respected Pyr above all others and considered him to be the most superiorly endowed of men. Only his other brother, Long Swan was loved equally in his heart. Pyr stood with Va-Eyra and another tall dark haired young blood whom Sur Sceaf guessed to be Pyr’s son, the semblance was so strong.
Mendaka stepped up beside Sur Sceaf, “He’s even bigger than the reports. This man has the bearing of a Thunder Being. Kinda like a stretched out you.”
Lana declared, “Even their personalities are alike, Dak. But Pyr isn’t prone to quick temper outbursts like my Surrey.”
When they were within hailing distance, Syr Elf spotted them and came running back with the cats in the lead. “Is that giant with Mama the pirate, or is it the crooked man that looks cross? I’m afraid to go near them.”
Sur Sceaf hid a smile. “Yes, the tall one is your uncle. The other ogre is called Crooked Jack. Watch out for him. He eats kids alive if he can catch them.”
Lana huffed. “Don’t listen to Surrey. That crooked man is Jackie Doo and he’s as gentle as a big old dog.”
As they approached with Syr Elf half hidden behind them, Pyrsyrus and Va-Eyra turned in unison. As soon as Pyr saw Sur Sceaf, he ran down the steps and said, “Hail, brother of my heart!”
Sur Sceaf released Lana to carefully embrace his brother. He couldn’t quite suppress a wince when Pyr fastened on to his shoulders with his great hands and declared, “What a pitiful sight you are, Surrey. You’d melt a man’s beard with fear if he metcha in the dark. But then, few men ever crawl back out of one of those Pitter pits.”
Pyr was like the great war god, Tyranus, come to earth. He emitted that absolute appearance of strength and invulnerability. His regal and commanding deportment always inspired instant respect.
Before Sur Sceaf could respond, the sound of whistling wings beating over their heads drew his gaze upwards. A flock of pigeons, landed all about them, cooed, and strutted around the pavilion picking up crumbs and seeds the schoolers and jester had dropped. It reminded him of the f
eathered rivers of pigeons from his own cote in Namen Jewell.
His energies were ebbing away, so he tried to force more strength into his voice. “I am honored to have your aid and assistance, my lord. The pledge of your fyrds and navy joining our league of tribes overwhelms me with gratitude and humility.”
Pyr responded in his familiar deep baritone, “I would have had it no other way, Surrey. You are the hope of Herewardom, the chosen one of the Roufytrof. I have known your worth since your childhood when the swans sang over your cradle. Although you were one mischievous little hellion, you possessed a mind that stretched way beyond your years. I can’t tell you how it thrilled me to hear that you were awarded the commission to be the lord of the three tribes. Perhaps, it is time I should stop calling you Little Brother and instead refer to you as my lord.”
“Be sure you bow from the waist, when you say that.”
Lana burst out laughing as did Mendaka. Even Gisela cracked a smile.
Pyrsyrus in his usual unflappable demeanor said, “Your wife, Lana, has been my wives’ dear companion along the trail to here. Is this lovely lady accompanying you yet another of your wives I have not met?”
Sur Sceaf half forgot as he looked around and saw Gisela. “Who,” he pointed at Gisela, “Her?” He shook his head in abject shock, thinking that she would be the last person he’d ever marry. “No, no, she’s my fish-nurse.”
“And a mighty fine one, I might add,” Va-Eyra said as she joined them. Turning to Gisela, the queen said with a smile, “Didn’t I tell you, Gisela, it would be like riding a bull in the rodeo to keep this proud prince in his sick bed?”
Everyone, but Sur Sceaf laughed.
“Well, I’m quite through with her now, Va. Please, I thank you, but I have no further need of a governess.”
“You’re probably right. But the next time you crawl across my threshold looking like a corpse and in need of immediate attention, I’ll have a twelver watch over you until the nurse says you’re well.”
Gisela said, “My queen, without prejudice, let me say, I’ve handled more than one mule team that wasn’t this stubborn.”
“I knew that if anyone could manage him for even a short time, it would be you, Gisela. The mere fact that he is standing here, being his usual imperious self, is testimony to the skill and dedication of you and Flicka.”
Gisela said, “Thank you my lady. I have always enjoyed a challenge. With your permission, I will go and make up the salves he will require on the trail for his wounds.”
Va-Eyra said, “Thank you, Gisela.” She gave Sur Sceaf a stern look. “Although he appears to have lost his manners, I am sure he is grateful.”
“He has already thanked me, right after he told me he would no longer require my services.”
To Sur Sceaf’s utter surprise, she offered him an amused smile, “You will be in my prayers, Lord Prince Sur Sceaf.” She bowed to the queen and took her leave.
The queen waited till Gisela headed back for the infirmary, then turned to Syr-Elf. “You stay right there with your uncle. I’ll have a talk with you about being where you’re supposed to be.”
“But Ma--”
She flashed her index finger, “Uoop!”
Looking chastened, Syr Elf took it well. As they moved across the cobblestone courtyard, Sur Sceaf smiled and placed his hand on the shoulder of the boy. He directed Pyrsyrus’ gaze, by pointing with his head, to the young prince walking patiently at his side. “This young lion is our sis-son, Syr Elf, son of Rusyrus and is very much intrigued by his pirate ma-bro. Perhaps you could entertain him with some pirate tales.”
The boy looked up at the towering giant before him and spoke boldly. “Ma-Bro, where is your eye patch?”
“I’m afraid I left it aboard ship lad. We only use them for when we go down into the hull after coming out of bright sunlight. No need for it in the high desert, is there?” The boy nodded. “Though I’ll wager you the patch would help us see the contents of the pits better.” Pyrsyrus said as he winked at Sur Sceaf.
“Uncle Pyr, will you take me pirating with you?”
“I’d be glad to, but first you need to pass the Rite of Magical Hair, and complete your schooling. In the meantime you can grow a little bigger. Make sure you get some training from my good friend, Starkwulf, and by the time you sport a beard and have been hooded, we can talk about pirating.”
“Speaking of the Wose, Va,” Sur Sceaf asked, “have you seen him at all of late?”
“I received a message that he only just passed through Witan Jewell two weeks ago. Said he had met you in the deep wood, but that you had no use for him.” Another flight of pigeons with whistles strapped to their legs landed in the courtyard near them to gather the fallen grains.
“Wose is partially right. Let’s just say I had not thought to have a use for the Wose. An obvious miscalculation at best.”
Pyrsyrus shook his head, “Same old brother, still always wanting to do it all alone. As I’ve told you in the past, it won’t work.”
“Enough! I already got that lecture from our dear sister and Mendaka.”
“Well, did it get through that thick head of yours yet?”
“I’m afraid it only slowly percolates in.”
“Well, it had better,” Pyrsyrus said, “because it might kill you if it doesn’t.”
Va-Eyra raised an eyebrow, “And all those you are charged to protect. You must start thinking as a king and stop thinking as a warrior. For I can foresee, the mantle of kingship will be falling heavy on your shoulders sooner than you suspect.”
The queen turned to Sur Sceaf, “Jackie Doo told me that he looks forward with pleasure to seeing you at the festive board today.”
Pyr glanced behind him at the lanky dark haired youth of about seventeen who was waiting a few paces behind him. “Surrey, this is my beloved son, Herewose,” he said. He beckoned the boy forward, “Come to see from what roots you sprouted.”
Va-Eyra said, “He has his father’s good looks and mane of hair, that’s for sure, and I hear the makings of quite the lore master.”
Herewose said shyly, “I hope to prove so. These lands I have seen make me wish I would have chosen to be a traveler like Fa-Fa Syrus was in the days when he sojourned in the East to the Firginias, espying out the lands of the enemy.”
Lana smiled at him, “He remindeth me so much of my son, Aelfheah, they could almost be twins. Wouldst thou not say, Surrey?”
“He does indeed, Lana.” Sur Sceaf took a step backwards and pulled Mendaka up beside him. “Pyr, this is my blood-brother, Mendaka.”
Mendaka grasped Pyrsyrus’ hand. “Your brother has always spoken very highly of you, my lord, as has the Wose.”
“Surrey honors me as I honor him. We are as much friends as we are brothers. Cut from the same spirit, even if not from the same mother. But I have something troubling in my heart.”
“What is it that troubles you, Lord Pyrsyrus?” Mendaka inquired.
“Tell, me, Mendaka, what are the odds that a Pitter rat pack could find my brother by coincidence in the broad expanse of this desert we just passed through?”
“I have pondered the same odds and believe they are next to nil. Methinks we have a spy close at hand.”
“Can you think of who that might be?”
Mendaka said, “It is not our way to accuse a man without proof, but my heart tells me it must be Hotuekhaastait, Standing Bull, of the Bull Elk Clan.”
Pyrsyrus turned his gaze rapidly to Sur Sceaf. “Do you know this Standing Bull?”
Sur Sceaf coughed. “I know him to be an ass and nothing more. I would say, he doesn’t have the brains to be a spy. No me thinks Walker has provided the spies.”
Pyrsyrus frowned. “It’s apparent to me, someone who knew of your plans in advance had to have put those rats on your trail. Be vigilant, Brother, and don’t rule out anyone you or your friends may suspect. Beware of the stab in the back. Generally, those we least suspect are the most cunning and elusive of traitors
.”
“Believe me, I shall take your words to heart. I have no wish to repeat my mistake.”
Pyrsyrus drew Sur Sceaf near unto him. “Let’s have a look at the damage the Pitters inflicted on you.” He turned Sur Sceaf around. “Yes, I can see, they broke you nigh unto death. Together we shall break the Pitter yoke off all the nations of Panygyrus.”
Va-Eyra got a concerned look on her face. “Will you give him a healing blessing, Pyr? He could surely use it.”
Pyr turned to Sur Sceaf. “Is it your will, my brother, that I should give you a king’s blessing?”
“There is nothing I’d wish for more.”
“Then let us turn aside for the blessing.”
Va said, “If you have no plans of returning to your sick bed, Surrey, then, please, we can retire to my council chamber where I can outfit you in my husband’s clothing that I’ve been holding for Syr Elf. He’s never seen his father and those clothes will mean a lot to him some day. Especially if I tell him they were worn by two great swan lords.”
Once again Lana moved closer to Sur Sceaf and he put his hand around her waist. The queen ran her arm through Pyr’s and together they headed for the chamber for the blessing from the king of the North.
* * *
It was just past the ninth hour when Sur Sceaf and Lana left the festive board in the Queen’s Hall. Va-Eyra had put on a great feast, complete with musicians and plenty of rich flowing ale, honey-mead, and bee-ur. The large guest suite assigned to them was situated on the second floor midway in the Queen’s Hall facing the south gate. It was reserved only for special guests and emissaries.
“Wait till you see this, Lana.” Sur Sceaf said as they followed the chamberlain and waited till the stewards entered with the luggage, then with a flourish of his hand, said, “I remember when Master Builder Muryh, was constructing this very room.”
As she stepped through the door she said, “Oh, my lord, it is so lovely. I could stay here forever.”
As soon as the stewards left, the chamberlain announced, “I have placed a small keg of high desert ale and flagons for you and your lady, my lord, I understand from Chief Mendaka that it is your favorite.”
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 7
