* * *
On the sixteenth day of leaving Salem, the weather in the mountains was clear and crisp, but warming as the sun moved toward afternoon. Sur Sceaf along with Mendaka, Elijah, and Pyrsyrus led the trekkers up the long gentle grade to the top of the hill overlooking DiAhman. They crested the hill and started down into the Eloheh Basin. Mighty Mount Leofric stood like a giant sentry pointing its jagged finger to the cerulean sky in the direction of Eloheh. Sur Sceaf spotted the newly erected guard platforms half hidden in the branches of the tall Sitka spruces. “I’m sure Onamingo had these watch towers erected to warn of Pitter incursions into the land.”
Mendaka jested, “More like to warn the Sharaka maidens that Ilkchild is coming in all his handsome glory.” Mendaka gave Sur Sceaf a pointed look and said, “And of course, there may be one maiden in particular that is interested in our arrival.”
Pyrsyrus laughed. Elijah looked puzzled. Sur Sceaf lifted an eyebrow at Mendaka. “Just go on pushing your luck. If you don’t stop ribbing me, I’ll tell Redelfis and Little Doe about your antics with my niece, Ylfing, in the Summer Academy at Maiden Head. You remember old Fish Lips, don’t you?”
Sur Sceaf spurred his horse forward. Mendaka laughed and followed.
They watched, a brave climbed down from the tree stand and disappear in the wood, only to reappear on his pony riding like the wind toward Eloheh. The basin of the great lake spread out before them like a giant mirror surrounded by a dark forest frame. In the distance smoke signals puffed into the sky. Sur Sceaf felt his excitement rising in anticipation of seeing Taneshewa once again. He had been gone a long time and had no idea of what had gone on in the Camp of Eloheh. Had Taneshewa changed her mind after Mendaho had explained to her the ways of the Herewardi?
Two points of the medicine wheel later, the long procession snaked into the Sharaka encampment on the east shore at DiAhman as planned by Onamingo. Sur Sceaf was pleased to see that extra forest area had been cut down and corrals with hay-mows were placed for receiving the incoming cattle, sheep, and horses. As each segment arrived, they busied themselves setting up camps just as they had along the trail. Sur Sceaf set Crooked Jack in charge of all affairs on the east shore. The fyrds set up their tents in lines as usual, while the Quailor began forming circles with their wagons. The captains of hundreds saw to it that each segment was organized and settled just as they had done all along the trek.
On the south shore of DiAhman, Onamingo sent a runner back to meet Sur Sceaf and tell him that he and his officers were to come to Eloheh to meet with him and the talking chiefs. Sur Sceaf sent Ilkchild back to inform all the commanders to assemble on the south shore to the special meeting with Onamingo and the talking chiefs while everyone else was to remain camped on the eastern shore. Sur Sceaf asked the Sharaka runner to inform Crooked Jack, along with Fromer, and Elijah’s heir-apparent, Franz, and Snake Horse to join them as soon as their duties were completed.
As the four of them traveled around the edge of the lake toward Eloheh, Sur Sceaf noticed a wistful look taking over Mendaka’s usually rugged look.
“I shall miss this place.”
“I too, shall miss this land, it has been eternally woven into my spirit. Many were the good times we had here, Dak.”
Mendaka said, “If the Thunder Beings are kind to us, our children will see it again.”
Well before they reached the first camp of Sharaka, they were met by crowds of people on both sides of the road, trilling a traditional welcome home. Dogs barking, women carrying suckling babes in arm, and young men shouting out the names of Sur Sceaf and Mendaka. The sound of drumming, and whistles, and children dancing filled the air. Flaming arrows were shot over the lake letting all the people around Lake DiAhman know that their men had arrived home.
The scene was repeated in each camp through which they passed. He scanned every face for Taneshewa, but she was nowhere to be seen. By the time they reached Eloheh another crowd of well-wishers greeted them. One of the women shouted at Mendaka, “When will my man be home?”
“He will be here directly, along with the other dog soldiers, they are bringing up the rear.”
Coming upon the long lodge, they dismounted, tied their horses, and walked straight up to Onamingo, who stood tall and proud in his buffalo robe with his medicine staff in hand. Sur Sceaf embraced Onamingo warmly, while once again scanning all the faces of the people in the crowd for his Ahy.
“Welcome, Sur Sceaf. I see you have completed the second leg of your journey. We shall join you on your third.”
“Thank you, Chief Onamingo. Please permit me to introduce you to the chief high priest of the Quailor. This is Elijah von Hollar.”
Onamingo said, “A great honor to have you come to Eloheh, Chief Elijah.”
“The honor is all mine, Chief Onamingo.”
After welcoming Pyrsyrus and Elijah, Onamingo asked Sur Sceaf, “Did your trek go well?”
Sur Sceaf pondered a moment before nodding. “Well enough, but most draining. We have arrived later than expected, but will still need a little time to refresh and replenish ourselves. It should not be long until we will all three tribes be conjoined in Witan Jewell. That’s where I’ve set my sights.”
“We are ready to be joined and to join. There should be ample corrals for your horses and provender for the livestock in abundance on the eastern shore. The cattle and sheep may graze freely because we will only burn the excess.”
Onamingo gestured at the talking chiefs seated outside the long lodge. “These men went to great efforts to organize everything according to your instructions. When you lead out, we shall fall in place directly behind you.”
“Thank you for your great preparations, Onamingo. The rest of my commanders should arrive shortly.”
Onamingo nodded and said, “Before we begin our meeting, I must tell you, our scouts report signs of Pitter hell-rat bands moving through the area. I have consulted with Snake Asker. He knows the language of the winds, and he has prophesied an early winter rain coming. Snake Asker says the tree crickets have ceased to sing, the grasshoppers are laying their eggs early. We have also seen the goats have already put on their undercoats and mushrooms have been breaking through the mould earlier than is usual. These wagons and livestock would have to plow through mud, unless we leave right away. Also, a pigeon has come from the Desert Queen. Va-Eyra is sending some Hickoryan settlers to join us in our exodus. I have hopes that they will arrive tonight. But we cannot delay, otherwise they shall have to catch up.”
Pyrsyrus said, “Am I to understand we cannot linger for even one day?”
Onamingo nodded. “I have listened to all the talk of my chiefs. All agree, it is wise we should leave on the morrow as Snake Asker recommends.”
* * *
The feast and attending council fire had gone well. Sur Sceaf was accustomed to the blending of the red-coated fyrds and the Sharaka in their tanned and beaded buckskins. But now the black-coated and black-hatted Quailor offered a dramatic backdrop against which they would play. Despite his pleasure at seeing the three nations blending for the first time, he was disappointed that he had not had a spare moment to ask anyone where his love was and he could not discover his lady-faery anywhere. He thought it inappropriate to inquire of her father during an official capacity and continued to search every passing face.
By the time the moon was well into the sky, all that remained of the council fire was the pipe ceremony, a Sharaka tradition of greatest import, where every participant sealed the agreements with the joining of their spirits through the sacred tobacco smoke. After explaining the purpose of the ceremony, Onamingo led the leadership over to the group of talking chiefs already seated on grass mats around a fire in the tall Sitka spruce grove next to the lodge.
As Sur Sceaf and the others approached, the ralking chiefs respectfully stood up, drew their hands from the center of their chests to their shoulders in a swift motion. The gesture that meant they were opening their hearts to you. While they waite
d for the fyrd commanders and Quailor to be seated, Onamingo motioned for them to all draw in closer.
As soon as everyone had settled, Onamingo opened the meeting by requesting Snake Asker to call upon the ancestral spirits to bless their council and purpose.
From out of the dark sprung a fearful looking creature clothed in black with a pointed hood through which the actor looked out the two holes for eyes. He was being chased by a group of women with bundles of sage and sheaves of corn. This all symbolized the driving out of the Evil Spirit by the Tribe of Women so that evil could not follow after them.
Seated directly across from Sur Sceaf, Fromer, appeared aghast and even somewhat frightened. With each part of the ceremony and chant, his face grew darker with disgust. Once Snake Asker was finished, Onamingo received the magic peace pipe in a white-buckskin wrapped in the beaded colors of the four serpents. The pipe was a combination pipe and battleaxe made of soapstone with a hollowed out juniper handle and bound in buckskin from which hung swan and raven feathers. Deep Voice took sacred tobacco from a buckskin pouch with matching feathers, and packed it tightly in the pipe.
As chief of chiefs the honor of lighting the pipe now fell on Sur Sceaf. He selected a fagot from the fire and puffed it to light. He handed the pipe to Onamingo, who puffed deeply and passed it on. As each officer took a puff of the sacred tobacco, they likewise passed it on in a sun-wise direction. Sur Sceaf kept a watchful eye on Fromer. He saw that the dycon pretended to puff before attempting to pass it on to Elijah.
Seated next to Sur Sceaf, Chief Onamingo stiffened. Sur Sceaf knew that to refuse the pipe was an unforgivable broach of etiquette and he berated himself for not having clarified that point before the ceremony, especially, to Fromer of all present.
“You did not partake, Little Brother!” Onamingo charged in his stern voice. “One may not decline the peace pipe once seated in council. This council will not proceed until you do. And if you do not, then you are disinvited and will be escorted from the camp.”
Fromer was trapped like a possum in a snare and he knew it. Still, he hesitated, until Elijah leaned into him and whispered something in a low tone. Reluctantly, Fromer frowned and gingerly puffed, coughed, turned red-faced, then with a furious look, passed the pipe on to Elijah. Elijah drew in the smoke and slowly released it before passing it to young Franz.
As the pipe made its way around the circle, Onamingo offered the second meaning and purpose of the Peace pipe for those who did not understand. “When we partake of the peace pipe, it is required that we all share one breath and one purpose. If our hearts partake of the pipe unworthily, then the Thunder Beings will cause our hearts and dreams to turn to ashes in our lives. It is what binds our hearts in the covenant of oneness. We came here to become one of heart and we must leave here as one in purpose and of one mind. Who ever smokes unworthily will suffer the afflictions of dark spirits.”
Once the peace pipe found its way back to Sur Sceaf, Mendaka got to his feet. “Brothers of the three tribes, we have heard wise counsel here today. Our plans we made in the council fire are good and true. Now, I should like to hear from the man whose counsel I have always sought before embarking on any journey. Thunder Horse, may I call upon you to give us a prayer over our smoke?”
“As you wish, my son.”
Sur Sceaf handed the shaman the peace pipe. Mendaka re-seated himself. The spirit chief used the smoking pipe to purge the grounds of all evil and opposing spirits by stretching forth his arms to the east. He repeated the action into the other three cardinal points thus turning to the north to complete the circle.
The spirit chief cradled the pipe in his right hand and arm, declaring, “The Thunder Beings have safely watched over you, Sur Sceaf, Chief of Chiefs of the Three Tribes, and covered you with great favor. We welcome you to our ancient circle of brothers and the White Eyes deemed trustworthy, who come under the feathers of your spear. To partake of this pipe is to bind our hearts together in a common cause.” Thunder Horse raised the pipe to the heavens and opened with a prayer. “Great Spirit and manitous of the forests and lakes, hear the words of our mouths. We begin the great journey to live amongst the White Eyes and in their lands that we might be safe from the wrath and rage of the Pitters. We pray we may all benefit from this move and live in the peace of true brothers. Let this sacred smoke arise before thine eyes and hear the words of our hearts. Make us one in purpose.”
As Thunder Horse was praying, Chanting Drum, donned a ritual buffalo head and began to dance, shaking a gourd and pounding the earth with a rhythmic beat. As he chanted, and smoked each guest with a smoking bundle of sage, Fromer recoiled from the smoke and had an indignant frown upon his dour face. As Chanting Drum moved on, Fromer deliberately said aloud to Elijah. “This isn’t going to work. We were warned about these heathen practices in the Heilige Schrift.” His jaw moved grimly side to side like he was gritting his teeth. Even his face seemed to grow darker and darker as the ceremony progressed.
Both the Sharaka and Herewardi murmured their disgust at Fromer. Snake Asker requested, “One bad pony can mar an entire herd with its biting. Would you please take leave of our circle, Little Man.” He looked directly at Fromer.
Before Onamingo could give answer, Elijah flushed with embarrassment, and requested to speak. Onamingo nodded his approval. Elijah turned toward Onamingo. “I beg your indulgence, kind brothers. Fromer will speak no more.” He then addressed Fromer. “Thou art not authorized to speak the will of the Quailor people. That responsibility is mine alone. Thou art merely here to gather facts and give input for our needs. Save all thy remarks for our meeting.” Elijah took off his hat and stood up to address the council. “I sustain the plan. I think it is not only a good way to learn about each other, but, a way to appreciate one another’s cultures. If we cannot learn to get along and tolerate other tribes then we will not be strong enough to unite in a confederacy against an enemy that is absolutely one in purpose and means to blot us all out of the earth forever.”
Chief Deep Voice followed Elijah, “My heart is easily joined to the White Eyes of the Herewardi Nations, for they seem to understand us, but this Black Hat, the little one with the big mouth, seems to mock our spirit medicine and hold us in contempt.”
Sur Sceaf stood and declared, “Fromer is but one man. He is little different than Standing Bull who opposed our joining and made such havoc at the Elk Spirit Crater. The rest of the Sharaka do not feel as he does. It is the same with our brothers, the Quailor.”
Mendaka clarified, “It will take time and understanding for us to truly be one. We must all work at it. That is why we will be spending at least six moons in Witan Jewell, because there is more at stake than time lines in this exodus. We need to be fashioned like this tomahawk peace-pipe that the Thunder Horse holds. The Quailor are the wooden handle, the Sharaka are the stone bowl, and the Herewardi are the buckskin thongs that bind us all as one. Each is very different, but three, who become stronger in one purpose. Thus we become a weapon strong enough to endure the opposition that is coming against us. The purpose of our sojourn in Witan Jewell will be to provide us with a brief schooling in tolerance and harmony. For after Witan Jewell there are much greater works for us to do together.”
Elijah rose to speak again. “I wish to reinforce the words of Sur Sceaf and Mendaka. Certainly, we Quailor will honor you as you honor us.” As he took his seat again he froze Fromer with a look that reminded Sur Sceaf of his Grandfather Ludwig. He could see, Elijah was growing and beginning to take the reins of leadership back from Fromer and his usurping dycons. He was also cognizant that Elijah’s timely statement assuaged the doubts of most of the Sharaka. Certainly, Onamingo seemed pleased as he rose to sum up the day.
“We have feasted, we have planned, and we have sealed our hearts to one purpose through the pipe ceremony. I charge all that participated in the smoke, to remember to keep our purpose, to be and act as one people.” He took the pipe and dumped the ashes on Fromer’s feet. “Otherwise, we
shall become as these ashes and blow away, never to be known by man again. Let us therefore, return to our camps and on the morrow, lift up our hearts and voices in acting as one people. Ahman and Ahman!”
The Herewardi and Sharaka repeated, “Ahman.” The three Quailor said their traditional, “Amen.”
Onamingo signaled to the sentinels that the area was open for traffic once again and that the smoke was over.
As the meeting broke up, Sharaka children came screaming up the trail to Eloheh from Mendaka’s camp with Going Snake out in the lead. “Sur Sceaf,” Going Snake signed and bowed then said excitedly, “There’s a monster man, come from the fyrd, who asked us in the angry voice of a growling dog, where you were meeting.”
“Yes, yes, I know, he is scary, isn’t he.” Sur Sceaf was not surprised to see Crooked Jack approaching down the path surely looking like some hunched back ogre to the children. That hunched back was gotten when Jackie attempted to break White Fire as a colt. Jackie was thrown and broken across the back. Most of the horse masters said the horse should be put down and could not be broken. But Sur Sceaf knew a god stallion when he saw one and took the colt to make him into a fine horse.
Yellow Horse was accompanying Crooked Jack and talking away as usual. He smiled at Going Snake. “Do not fear, my boy, that’s no monster, that’s my good friend, Crooked Jack.”
While waiting for the two men to arrive at the campfire, Sur Sceaf motioned for Going Snake to draw near. He whispered in a low breath, “Have you seen Taneshewa anywhere?”
Going Snake cupped his hand around his mouth and whispered directly into Sur Sceaf’s ear, “She’s helping Sagwi deliver a baby way up the Silent Stream.” Relieved that she was at least not avoiding him, he asked, “Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“Can’t say.”
He tried to put off thinking about it, but the concern that they might have to leave her behind did not set easy with him. “Going Snake, will you relay a message to Ahy and Sagwi, that we are leaving on the morrow and there are Pitter bands roaming the area. Soon blood and darkness will cover this land. Tell them that if there is anyway possible for them to join us, to do so immediately.”
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 22
