The tournament began with the horner’s blast. The contestants lined up on their horses at opposite ends of the field. Twelve young bloods faced off twelve seasoned warriors. It was attended by a very sizable number, including a sprinkling of Quailor teens who were peeking from up in the wood and had obviously opted out of their worship services for the excitement of the arena. Sur Sceaf felt a pang of unease and wondered if he should command them back to their camp, he knew it was a risk, but decided against such, realizing that these particular youth would likely be the future bridge into the Quailor culture.
He stood next to Taneshewa, reveling in the warmth of her body. Clustered near was Onamingo and Mendaka’s family, Margot and her Tensees stood nearby, right on the center line that was drawn as the optimal point of contact.
“This is only the shadow of what our tournaments look like, Ahy, usually it’s a fair event, with prizes, pageantry, horses and boys clothed in colorful uniforms. The audience usually has ladies selecting their choice of champions. The boys wanted a tournament to practice for the big one coming up in the Blood Moonth, and here it is.”
Mendaka said, “It is obvious to me that my son, the Ginger Sharaka and Ilkchild, the Golden Herewardi are as close as you and I were Surrey. Redelfis has grown up hearing how you and I defeated all contestants in the riding tandem contest. I am convinced he and Ilkchild are determined to outdo their Sires.”
“Well, they certainly stand out with their bright hair.”
With another blast from the horners, the two boys riding Ilkchild’s golden stallion, faced off against the two members of Crooked Jack’s fyrd sitting tandem on their milk white Herewardi war horse. Instead of the traditional lance of armored warriors they wielded supple saplings with wet red paint from poke weed on the end to register a hit as they jousted. The battle was well fought and the boys showed great proficiency, but with the exception of Ilkchild and Redelfis, the seasoned warriors took every match. Ilkchild delivered three out of the five hits for a victory, but Redelfis was able to parry most of the blows and showed a great proficiency for battle in tandem.
Mendaka declared, “All the young bloods fought well, but I have never seen the skill that Ilkchild displayed in anybody else but you Surrey. There were times he seemed even more adept with the lance than you.”
“That’s because he and Arundel practiced unceasingly from the age of eight under the direction of Old Grokk. The boy has told me that, I may have slain my thousands, but he shall slay his tens of thousands. His hatred of the Pitters is what drives him so.”
Once all the tournament sports were finished, it was time for the cockfights, which traditionally concluded the tournaments. The Herewardi didn’t have any fighting cocks with them, but the Sharaka and the Tensee both did. The rink was swiftly put up, made from the back gates of wagons, lifted up and put in place with stakes and tying. Before the match began, wager-masters went around collecting the bets. Sur Sceaf placed his bet on Dak’s wheaten rooster. They limited the fighting to ten cocks, one match each. Ahy placed her bet on Snake Horse’s grey, which was famous for its gameness and had the first match. It was against a white cock owned by Lynn the Hickoryan, who stood near the rink with a wad of tobacco in his cheek yelling out threats. The cockers held the roosters in their hands and allowed them one peck at each other before releasing them to combat.
Ahy screamed her delight as her grey flew into the air and came down on the white. The white suddenly became animated. The two birds clawed their way up each other into the air, before the white triumphed. Ahy showed a visible streak of disappointment as the judge called the fight in the white’s favor. Sur Sceaf had better luck. Although the favorite was Margot’s black-breasted red, it was defeated by Mendaka’s wheaten rooster in the final match.
Margot screamed out, “I ain’t never seen no rooster fight like that wheaten of yours, Dak. I gotta get me some of his offspring to get some of that gameness in my flock. Would you mind me taking a few eggs out from under his hens?”
“By Tah-Mah-Ea, Margot, you’ll have some by the Merry Moonth or I’ll eat mine. I’ll see to that.”
Little Doe winked at Margot. “No one has ever bested Mendaka’s wheatens. Although Surrey’s greys came very nigh one year.”
Sur Sceaf realized a whole host of the Quailor youth and some of the older folk had now gathered in the wood just above them and had probably witnessed the whole tournament just as the young bloods began the wrestling matches. Straightaway, they all started pouring back into the woods and then Fromer appeared swishing them with his hands and looking down on the tournament shaking his head.
* * *
Two days after the tournament, the wagon train snaked past the Elrusean Narrows. Sur Sceaf rode down the line with Long Swan and Ilkchild, reporting on train’s status. He reported to the lore master on how successful the march from Irminsul had been, how few delays were encountered. There appeared to be a lull in the birthings and the hospitalers reported very few birthings during this final stretch. To date, there had been only four deaths, three elderly and one during delivery. There were several broken arms, two broken legs, one goring from boar, and three rattlesnake bites. All in all things had gone fairly well.
Long Swan declared, “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. We are not to Witan Jewell yet. Some problems may be seething below the surface. I for one, have a sense of unease. When I checked with Sagwi, she confirmed that she had felt ripples beneath the surface in the Spirit Realm.”
The three halted on their horses and watched the train rumble by. The Quailor contingency approached. The canvas sides were up on the lead wagon, displaying their ark. One by one, the high priests passed in their wagons and buggies. Expecting the dycons wagons to follow, Sur Sceaf was disturbed when there was a gap in the line. “Now what?” he muttered.
Ilkchild laughed, “Didn’t Long Swan warn you not to tempt the Norn Sisters with your boasting?”
“Hush boy, don’t add to my torment.”
Sur Sceaf wanted to be amused, but a niggling feeling grabbed him as he waited to see if the dycon’s train would show up. He had planned for them to camp at a certain meadow and he needed them to reach there before dark or they would be stretched into a very vulnerable position which no military commander would ever suffer. After a wait of at least ten more minutes, Sur Sceaf and the others rode down the line. He half-heartedly said, “Perhaps someone has busted an axle or something of the kind.”
However, upon riding further down the road, he saw the dycon’s had deliberately bottle necked the pass with their wagons and were sitting in the middle of the road singing hymns. “Bringing in the sheaves. Bringing in--” They petered off when they spotted Sur Sceaf.
Sur Sceaf turned in his saddle to address his young blood commander, Redelfis. “Elfy, this is what Hartmut warned me could happen. Forewarned, I discussed the strategy with Habraham and Elijah at a council fire last week. So Elfy, I want you to ride up to the high priest’s wagon and fetch Elijah and Habraham. And then fetch Pyrsyrus and Mendaka. Have them come swiftly.”
Ilkchild saluted, before swinging his horse around and riding off. “I will see to it, my lord.”
With Long Swan at his side, Sur Sceaf slowly rode up to Fromer whose wagon was in the forefront of the bottle neck. “Is there a problem here, Lieber Geschwistern?”
Fromer snarled, “Is there a problem? It was hard enough to get you to allow us our Sabbath. Then you held your naked heathen games before the eyes of all our youth and women. Such blatant carnality must not be repeated. We shall not move until we have a commitment out of thee that we won’t have to witness another repeat of your depravities.”
Sur Sceaf’s instinct was to sever the mosquito’s head from his puny shoulders right then and there, but he reined himself in before forcing himself to speak rationally. “Brother Fromer, if you remember, I readily agreed to allow the Quailor to have their Sabbath services. I even agreed to halt the train for you, although I knew it would delay
our arrival, so as to accommodate the Quailor. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that the Quailor show an equal amount of tolerance for the others on the train who are anxious to get to a safe camp by nightfall.”
“Well, as thou seest, it’s not working out like I planned. You have deliberately held these tournaments to tempt the weaker members of our community and lead them into the paths of sedition by cramping our camps so close that we couldn’t spread to avoid profane contact with you.”
Sur Sceaf’s patience thinned. “Fromer, you know very well that I explained in detail why we had to camp in close proximity to one another that day. If you can’t remember, I will repeat it. The enemy will seek any avenue that opens into the Umpqua. We are dangerously exposed at our rear. Unless I keep the camps secure, we are liable to be attacked in one of those weak moments.”
Numerous Quailor started pouring in from the rear. Representatives from the Sharaka and the Tensees showed up to see what the hold up was.
Fromer said, “I don’t believe you. Elijah said, now that we passed Irminsul, we are safely into Herewardi grazing lands and unlikely to face any more dangers. You have concocted this excuse to show off your exhibitionist natures and run amok like those naked savages that you so favor.”
The thin thread of Sur Sceaf’s patience was threatening to snap when Long Swan spoke up. “My lord, with your permission, I would like to address Brother Fromer’s accusation. As an official representative of the Roufytrof, I would remind you that under the Constitution of the Three Tribes, no beliefs of one group may demand precedence over another. From the moment Lord Sur Sceaf received his commission, he has done everything in his power to balance the keen needs of each sovereign tribe. Had I been in charge of the train, I would not have stopped the train for your services and jeopardized the well-being and safety of all the other tribes. We Herewardi and also the Sharaka have forfeited the right to honor our High Holy Days in an effort to get through the mountains before the bad weather set in.” Fromer grew beet purple and cringed before the Wizard’s rebuke. The Quailor and the representatives from the other peoples applauded.
Fromer assessed that he had much less support than he had calculated. To save face he said, “Chust keep your heathen rituals to yourselves. That’s all I am asking.”
Sur Sceaf wanted to laugh. He’d never seen his brother so forcefully rebuke anyone before, but he’d obviously had enough. It gave Sur Sceaf a feeling of sure footing to know he had the firm backing of his wizard brother as well as his able brother, Commander Pyrsyrus.
“I have the right to keep the train moving at my discretion. I will allow a day of rest for the Quailor Sabbath under one condition, if you ever hold this train up again without first consulting with me, I’ll run you over to the fyrds and have you flogged and run through the gauntlet.”
Fromer cringed and sputtered. Before he could respond the pounding of hoof beats came from behind him. Elijah and Habraham rode up behind Ilkchild and Pyrsyrus.
Sur Sceaf could deduce from the expression on Elijah’s face that Ilkchild had apprised him of the situation. “What seemeth to be the delay, Meine Geschwistern?” Elijah inquired.
Fromer waved his hat over the dycons. “We dycons held a strike and formed a blockade to the wagon train.”
“By what authority didst thou act?” Habraham demanded. “As the presiding high priest of the Society of Ephrata, I don’t remember authorizing any strike of any kind by any Quailor.”
Elijah followed with, “And as the chief high priest, I find this highly irregular and clandestine, for not one of you dycons didst approach me for a grant to stay our progress.” Speaking directly to Fromer he said, “If this wagon blockage is not immediately broken up, I am going to summon thee, personally, to a church court. Now, thou hast called for enough of those to know that thy membership in this community could be brought into jeopardy and thou wouldst likely be defrocked.”
The longer Elijah and Habraham spoke the more the assembled people frowned at Fromer. It was almost as if the dycon was shrinking before everyone’s eyes.
“I chust wanted to get satisfaction that we were going to still be able to practice Retrenchment and separation from the world.”
Linney Knighton toaded, “Yeah, we want our right to Retrenchment, you promised we would have.”
Elijah sat straight in his saddle. “That is the promise, but this is not the place. Now, get these wagons moving,” Elijah commanded.
Fromer picked up the reins and steered the oxen back on the road followed by the others.
Habraham turned to Elijah and said, “I care not what thou doest with this bruder, but I recommend we vote to silence him in the congregation.”
Elijah nodded, “That will surely be the next step, Hab.”
As the wagons continued to rumble past, Pyrsyrus drew near on his horse to be heard. “I think you were right, Sur Sceaf. We need to stop for a couple weeks in Glide Garth. This loaf needs to rise before we put it in the oven of Witan Jewell. Besides, my ladies would welcome the respite before we enter Witan Jewell. What do you think Swan Master?”
Long Swan said, “Everything hangs on what happens from here to Glide Garth. I would counsel you, my lord, to take as much time as it takes and not proceed one foot beyond Glide Garth until the Ur Fyr gives you witness that there is harmony among the tribes. You want to make sure you stamp out every seed of contention in a quarantine situation before you enter the heart and core of Herewardom.”
Elijah said, “What wouldst thou like to see happen here, Sur Sceaf?”
Sur Sceaf squeezed the pommel of his saddle. “Fromer gets to be more bitter tasting the longer one has to chew on him. I’d like to see Fromer disappear, but my instincts tell me he’s needed to expose the weaknesses in our forging the tribes into one. The more reactions he causes, the more chinks in our armor he exposes, the more brush fires he starts the easier it will be for us to put out any future fires before they get started. All of this allows us time to come up with preventative measures for dealing with such problems. So far we are just seeing the sparks he’s tossing out in hopes of causing a conflagration. He ignorantly desires to sabotage the goals of all three tribes. He only wishes to promote his own interest, ignorant that his well-being lies in our hands.”
Pyrsyrus said, “It is a good plan. Now I am off to tell my ladies the good news that they will have time to prepare themselves for a grand entrance into Witan Jewell.”
Chapter 18 : Glide Garth
Long Swan’s Log: It is the twenty second day of the Moonth of Ullr, which some call Hollar, the Feast Days of Archers and the veneration of the yew tree, in the year of 583 H.S.O. Sur Sceaf was to complete the gathering of the three tribes within thrice three moonths time from the day he left Witan Jewell. The first wagons of the train parted the woods and exited into the Umpqua Basin’s rolling savannah lands at Glide Garth. There was a totem marking land with the rune of a wheel, an aurochs, and two yews, which is the brand of Sur Sceaf’s flocks and the marking of the bounds of his grazing lands. It is the place where the two rivers, the Umpqua and the Wylfkin, clash. Lord Sur Sceaf tasked me as the swan master to relate to my fellow lore masters, Hroar and Alcuin, his decision to make a temporary halt at Glide Garth so as to deal with the faction called ‘the Retrenchment Society’ among the Quailor dycons who are chronically and persistently oppositional and defiant to the welfare of the three tribes. And in this decision he has the support of we lore masters as representatives of the Roufytrof entrusted to act in their behalf.
The hiatus that began at the beginning of Blood Moonth and has continued until now, the twenty second day, the Day of Ydalir, celebrated with the veneration of the Holy Yew Tree and archery just before the arrival of the Dark Moonth. Great progress has been made in fortifying the leadership and chain of command amongst the Quailor by investing Elijah von Hollar, Chief High Priest of Salem, with full executive powers and supporting him through the buttress of the High Priesthood through a public vote of the Quai
lor.
Sur Sceaf has identified the problem as Elijah’s permitting his power to be commandeered by the self-interests of the dycons at expense of his community. Elijah does not have the commanding presence or leadership skills of his brother, Ludwig von Hollar, also known among the Sharaka as Flying Wolf, but now Elijah is taking on his responsibilities admirably well. There are last minute capstones that have to be laid before the people can be taken into Witan Jewell.
The expected winter rains struck hard up in the mountains but were oddly delayed here in the valley by Nature’s God and the temperatures of both days and nights remain unseasonably moderate. None of the medicine men can account for these anomalies of nature, nor as to why the weather has been so moderated.
Thunder Horse, the medicine man of the Sharaka and his sister, Sagwi, both seers of great repute, are convinced that the weather is being tempered, for at sundry times and diverse places a very queer cloud has hovered over the camp and has been seen both by day and by night. The lore masters agree that it is not unnatural, but divinely ordained by Woon’s Ship and the Valkyrie that issue from it who have the ability to stay the storms with their shields. Once again the favor of the gods rests upon Sur Sceaf and his cause.
* * *
At midday after the Quailor Sabbath services when the oxen were well fed and chewing their cud, lying about on the grass in bucolic ease, everyone was well fed after a larger than normal afternoon meal. Sur Sceaf used this window of free time to seek out Taneshewa and ask if she would care to walk out ahead of the encampments for a private stroll with him.
She looked at him warmly with a flirtatious smile. “I’ve fed the children, finished the wash, and none of my women are due, so why not.”
They strolled through the savannah lands together. Women were still washing their clothing and hanging it on lines stretched between oak trees. Men were washing out their wagons and hanging out the bedding to air in the sun. As he and Ahy passed, a number of people waved and called out their friendly greetings.
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 33
