“I can promise you that will likely be the result.”
Before Rudolf could respond, a little tow haired girl of approximately four winters came out of the hallway and crawled upon Sur Sceaf’s lap. In both of her tiny hands she clutched a small wooden doll dressed in traditional grey Quailor garb with red wool for hair. She handed Sur Sceaf her doll, which he examined thoroughly. “This is a most beautiful dolly. Isabelle, that is your name, right?”
Her eyes lit up, “Thou hast remembered my name.”
“I could never forget such a special little girl.”
Isabelle beamed up at him, “Wouldst thou like my dolly, Surrey?”
Rudolf frowned at his daughter. “Isabelle, do not bother Surrey with thy doll now. Get along to bed, and say thy prayers so the Devil or some schnallygaster doesn’t get thee.”
Sur Sceaf was touched by the tenderness and offering of the innocent child. “I have no way to care for your dolly at the moment. Why don’t you keep your doll safe for me right now.”
She nodded soberly. Her soft brown eyes had lost their smile. “I’ll take it to bed and after I’m asleep, Papa will give it to thee.”
“Isabelle,” Rudolf said. “Thou art supposed to be in bed. Don’t make me put thee there.”
Isabelle slipped from his lap and clutched the doll to her flannel-covered chest as she moseyed slowly off to her bed with her thumb in her mouth.
Verushka stepped in from the kitchen and said, “I am so sorry, the plum pudding was not done. I hope everyone is hungry.” She placed the plum pudding on the table, kissed Isabelle and Sally and said, “Now off to bed while we elders talk.”
“But Mama, I want Surrey to have my dolly. Will you give it him after I’m asleep? I’m afraid the Pitter Man will get me.”
Rudolf spoke in a gruff voice. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have told thee that God will protect thee from evil. If thou showest such lack of faith again, thou shalt feel the snap of my razor strop. Now off to bed for the last time.” The little girl scrambled off to bed with a frown.
Verushka said, “Rudolf please—“
Rudolf’s face grew beet red, “Silence woman, keep thy place or thou too wilt feel my strop.”
Lana sprung to her feet, her green eyes blazing, and her fists clenched. “Thou art a brutish man, Rudolf.” She turned to Verushka. “Please Sister, this man is filled with blind zeal and forceth his will on everyone with no regard for their thoughts. Thou and the children must come with us and that’s final.”
“Silence, Lana Durer, thou art an abomination. Thy parents were right to shun thee. Thou art worse than the heathen, because thou hast forsaken the truth and gone whoring after their heathen gods and bedded thyself with a devil and his concubines.”
Sur Sceaf commanded. “Enough, Rudolf. I will not hear another word of insult to my wife. I pity you. Once you discover how wrong you are, you will realize that you have placed your entire family on the Altar of Moloch. I doubt I shall ever see you again, but if you ever address my wife so disrespectfully again, I will cut you from nave to chaps.”
Sur Sceaf put his arm around a sobbing Lana, and guided her to the door. Turning abruptly, he called out, “Verushka, should you ever need my help, even to the last moment, you need only message me and I shall come for you.”
* * *
The Eye of Howrus rose brilliantly through the foggy morn. Seated on White Fire next to Elijah on his sorrel mare, Sur Sceaf watched from a promontory overlooking the assembly of the caravans. The wagons loaded with household goods had been loaded the night before. Now, they waited for the Quailor to hang their chicken, duck, geese, and rabbit crates before taking their assigned places for the departure on the exodus from Salem. He also kept an eye on the Rogues loading their wagons with the excess goods.
Once the line-up was complete with the people loaded in their buggies and wagons, Mendaka, who along with the Ephrata had overseen the organization of the wagon train, signed to Sur Sceaf with flags that all was in order.
Sur Sceaf turned to Elijah and said, “Would you like to give the signal to depart or shall I.”
“Thank thee for the offer, but I cannot bear that this departure should come by my hand.”
Nodding, Sur Sceaf stood in the stirrups and gave the sign to Pyrsyrus, who, along with his fyrd was at the front. Immediately, Pyrsyrus led out down the South Road, the same road that had brought them three days ago from Fort Rock.
Pyrsyrus lead out at the front. Following the fyrd, came his personal carriage and wagons. Mendaka and two hundred of his dog soldiers, went to patrol in every direction to prevent a Pitter surprise attack, while eight hundred remained to torch Salem with the help of Snake Horse and his dog soldiers.
Everywhere the Quailor showed their remarkable capacity for order and industry as the organized trains of buggies and wagons poured out of Salem. Families divided up the chores, with the older boys driving the wagons and families taking turns riding in the buggies, while others including many of the older children walked alongside.
To Sur Sceaf, the Herewardi fyrds looked like a line of red wasps, the Quailor resembled a long line of black beetles followed by the creeping caterpillars of the white Conestoga wagons. Traveling directly behind the fyrd, the wagon bearing the ark was presently opened for viewing with the canvas sides rolled up to the top. Four members of the Ephrata, walked beside, one on each corner. Behind them came the birthing wagon, highly visible with its red canvas top. Next came a procession of twelve hospital wagons with black lettering on snowy white background spelling out, ‘hospitalers’ and with the mark of the fish. The blacksmiths’ wagons were pulled by six oxen each and were covered in black canvas with the mark of hammer and anvil. Behind them came a long line of hay, grain, and chuck wagons. Toward the end came the cattle, drovers, shepherds, sheep and the swine herders with sturdy pig wagons bringing up the rear. A few lengths behind came the Salem fyrd with their herotoga commander, Lord Alfhere leading.
On the green sward, the Columba Rogues were nearly finished loading all the excess commodities the Quailor were forced to leave behind.
Snake Horse, who had been conversing with the Colomba chief, Shug, mounted and rode up the hill to Sur Sceaf where he saluted, and reported, “My men are poised and ready to set the torch to Salem at your command, my lord.”
“It’ll be just a few more moments. Just as soon as the Columba River People have finished the loading and have moved off to a safe distance. Watch for my signal.”
Snake Horse saluted before riding back down the hill to join his archers stationed at their prescribed intervals.
Elijah commented, “I see my carriage and my wife, Miriam, and my son Marion passing. There’s my rocking chair hanging out the back. My son, Wenzel is driving the wagon and my youngest son, Albert, who was just married this last year is driving the buggy with his expectant wife. She’ll be one of the first to use the birthing wagon. It giveth me no comfort to be right that Rudolf’s family will likely perish. I am deeply grieved that Verushka and her children elected to stay with Rudolf. He is a good, but proud man. Perhaps a little too harsh at times. I heard how mean he acted last night. That is not the Rudolf I used to know. The pity is that he was taken in by Fromer’s teachings and can’t let them go. The more one attempteth to reason with him the more committed he holdeth to his insane beliefs.”
Sur Sceaf felt his pain. “In the Herewardi culture such a matter would be weighed by the Council of Women. One zealot would never be allowed to control the fate of so many innocent people. There are times I hate to live by my own laws, but I must.”
“In our world, the women have little to no power except through their individual persuasions.” As though overcome by his thoughts, Elijah took off his hat and bowed his head in silent prayer. Tears streamed down his face. He looked to the heavens. “God. I’m going to miss this place. It was so kind to me.”
Sur Sceaf remained silent. There was no way to comfort such a loss of place. After all, the Hereward
i still mourned for their homelands in the Taxus and in the Firginias. Not a holy moonth passed that psalms were not lifted to the heavens for the return of their lands of inheritance.
He had consulted with Elijah as to when they should fire the land. He had assumed the Quailor would not want to witness the destruction of their homes, but Elijah had declared it would be better if the Quailor could see their City burn so that they would never entertain the false hope of returning.
To that end the wagon train would be halted when it reached the heights where the road bends to the south, too far from the town for the flames to be a danger, but close enough to get a birds eye view.
As the last of the excess goods were packed onto the Columba Rogue wagons. One by one, droves of River Folks tribesmen hurried off to the north with their boodle while their leader headed toward the promontory.
As soon as the Rogue’s wagons were out of sight, Sur Sceaf checked to make sure the prevailing winds were still coming from the west so as to blow the flames and smoke away from the wagon train. Once all was right, he stood in the stirrups and signed for Snake Horse to give the command to the fire starters.
In no time, flames spread through the fields, danced over rooftops, and roared like a chimney fire. The conflagration filled the sky with billowing smoke from the many adjoining flames. At a signal from Pyrsyrus, the wagon train was ordered to a halt, allowing the Quailor to stop on the heights to take one last look back on their hopes and dreams being sacrificially consumed by the great fire monster that ripped through the cityscape, ripping roofs from homes and barns and exploding across the fields in a surging flood of flames. The cleansing flames were fast leaving naught but ash for the Pitter take.
From their safe distance to the south, almost every face was fixated on the embroiling flames. Only Rudolf’s Section remained unharmed, as the Retrenchers had thoroughly dowsed water over all the homes and fences and flooded their lawns by diverting the Melchizedek River. From Sur Sceaf’s vantage point, he could see they were huddled to the west where the prevailing winds kept them from most of the smoke and tongues of the consuming fire.
A few moments later Shug, the Columba chief rode up. Sur Sceaf greeted him with a Swan Salute. “Greetings and Os-Frith, Chief of the River Folk, I’m glad you have come to claim our excess.”
“Greetings, Lord Prince Sur Sceaf, whose fame has many times come to our ears. I wanted to personally thank the three tribes for their generous gifts. We shall not forget your kindness to us.” The hefty and swarthy Rogue wore a black bandana with a white pigeon emblem directly over his forehead. The dove being the sigil of his Columba Tribe. “Your lordship, I can’t help noticing that one block of Salem appears to have been left deliberately standing. What purpose has that?”
“There is little wisdom in it at all, Shug. Those who occupy that block are overzealous Quailor. They could not be persuaded to come with us on the trek.”
“Tis, idiotic,” Shug exclaimed. “They must know how vicious the Pitter hell-rats are to anyone vulnerable to attack. It’s why we have no permanent settlements on the land and take to the river repeatedly for our safty. Have these simple folk learned nothing from their dealings with us? This is like spreading blood around a sheepfold while those wolf-rats prowl in the near dark. There can only be one end to this and it is not good.”
“Sadly, they would not hear such reasoning. One of the families includes my sister-in-law. She has ten children and is expecting another soon. I weep in the dark for them, Shug. Especially, one little blond cutie, who offered me her most precious possession.”
Shug looked him square on. “This reminds me of the Lowry People in the Blue Mountains. They were so isolated and had no connections with any other tribe. Now they have been obliterated by Pitter hell-rats. Gone from the earth, forever. Men killed, wives used up as whores, and children sold into slavery throughout Panygyrus. We have also heard from the travelers, that there is an evil power coming out of Hormah these days. An evil commissar, named the Chakal, who has a consuming zeal to destroy everything in his path, and it does not bode well for any tribe. This is why the Rogues don’t ever go anywhere alone, and why we keep our wives and children living on barges in the Columba River, where they are well out of the Pitter’s reach. Tis what it is. Nevertheless, I’ll do what I can do to watch over these fools as a token of your kindness towards us, Lord Sur Sceaf, for I perceive they are in some way endeared to you. We will trade with them oft, and if there is trouble, I will send you my word.”
“A man would count himself lucky to have such an ally as you, Shug. May you live long and die swiftly.” They struck hands and parted. While Shug headed west and north to join his band on the North Road, Sur Sceaf and Elijah rode down the opposite side of the promontory, heading toward the heights where Pyrsyrus was waiting for Sur Sceaf to arrive before resuming the march.
As they moved out into the countryside, flaming arrows struck the roofs of the isolated houses, pastures, and barns. Fortunately, the Quailor had neatly taken down all their hexads and packed them for the journey. Some even adorned the sides of their wagons like Pyrsyrus’ shields do their ships and dragoons.
To his right as they rode around a turn, he saw the haystacks combust behind them. The sunlight colored the sky with hues of orange and the intensely blue sky contrasted with the swelling black, grey, white, and orange smokes that swirled in serpentine patterns up into the heavens behind them. Flames licked out of windows, roofs of houses torched in fire fell under their weight while barns exploded sending sparks flying skyward. Chunks of flaming debris fell from the skies to the earth while smoke blanketed the one remaining block of homes like an eerie, grey death shroud erasing the remaining Retrenchers from sight.
As Sur Sceaf rode to the front with his onkel, Elijah wore an ashen mask of grief on his face. “Whatever shall become of this place, Surrey?”
Sur Sceaf wished he could give him a modicum of comfort, but felt compelled to tell him the truth. “These lands shall not be put back into productivity for some time, Onkel Elijah. It could be twenty or more years before the Quailor may again inherit this land.”
Elijah twisted in the saddle and looked behind. “Many a fond memory of labor, love, and worship linger here in this smoke and haze, Surrey,” he said tearfully as he turned to the front again. “To us t’was our Promised Land.”
Sur Sceaf felt a knot form in his throat. “I, too, shall miss it. Here in the land of my mo fa was the beginning of my strength. It’s where I married my first wives and my first children were born. It’s where my mo fa and mo mo taught me the foundation of all my sacred beliefs. It is indeed a great, but necessary sacrifice. It may be of interest to you to know that I have assigned a crew of stone masons to work here at the south gate. They will erect a large monolith placed as a witness to the Pitters and all other tribes as a reminder of who truly owns these lands. It says, ’This And All Adjoining Lands From The Columba To The Sacra-Ahmen River, From The Deserts To The Sea, Is Property Of The Three Tribes And Will Be Fully Reclaimed On The Day Of Our Judgment And Victory Over Tyranny.’”
“That is very well, my lord.” Elijah said, looking both surprised and pleased. “May God make it so.” One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Ye Herewardi always were a monument building people.”
“I think we are all in line for beginning the trek, Elijah. Perhaps, while we are still at a halt a few words from their chief high priest would be helpful.”
Sur Sceaf rode to the head of the train with Elijah to address the high priests of the Ephrata Society. When they reached the wagon containing the ark, they halted. The six priests who were in the buggy, climbed out and stood around the ark.
Elijah sat up as straight as he could in the saddle. “High priests of Salem, the twelve leaders of the Ephrata Society, here beginneth our trek to carry you to a place of safety under the wings of the Swan Folk, wherein you will be allowed to practice the Quailor beliefs as they have afforded us for many hundreds of years. You sha
ll be brought into close proximity to many different peoples and hopefully, peoples who will be as invested in maintaining their lifestyles as much as we are. It is our God given duty to do all in our power to promote harmony and goodwill amongst each other and amongst each tribe. A chain of command hath been established, and captains of hundreds have been appointed from the Ephrata Society to hear your concerns. My one comfort I leave you this day is to declare the words of the Good Book, ‘In time all sorrows shall pass.’ Here beginneth our journey.”
Chapter 12 : The Exodus Begins
As the priests gathered back into their wagon, Sur Sceaf and Elijah rode toward the front. When they reached Pyrsyrus’ carriage, he saw Lana was being comforted by Face-Of-Stars. Watching Lana say goodbye to Verushka and her family had been one of the most heart-rending scenes he’d ever had to bear. The memory of little Isabelle launching into his arms burned on his mind. He had given her a hug and asked, “How is your dolly this morning?” The lost look in the little girl’s eyes seared him to the core. “She’s scared of the fire and smoke. Chust like me. Why must everything burne and whither do my people go?”
At that moment, Sur Sceaf had felt his anger at Rudolf rekindle anew. Why hadn’t that fool explained to this child what was happening? Using the same gentle tone he used to explain the undeclarable to his own children, he told her, “Your house won’t burn, child. But if it ever would, you can come and live with me like the rest of these people are coming to do.”
As the children gathered around Sur Sceaf to say goodbye, Lana had wept on her sister’s shoulder, hugging her tightly. Elijah’s wife, Miriam was beside herself in tears. Friedrich and Lilith were more controlled, but their sad faces and red eyes betrayed their calm demeanor. Sur Sceaf would never forget how Lilith had turned to him and said in a trembling voice, “I made so many Thanksgiving dinners here, and never once was Verushka and her family not there to finish it with us. I was always sad that Lana was not here, but at least I knew she was in very strong arms, and in a safe place.”
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 19
