“I thank you, Onamingo, for your counsel, which confirms my own feelings. I have already put my dogs on the coyote dycons. I am currently keeping him under observation and have used a Quailor Law to keep him in line. In this I have the authority to remove him at will and have the support of Hartmut and Elijah.”
After sharing a pipe of Hickoryan tobacco with Onamingo, he rode on to the Quailor Camp. He observed Elijah had more of a spring in his step and a confidence that was not lacking. Sur Sceaf rode slowly, returning greetings, but all the while observing the general spirit of the camp. As he rode past Habraham’s wagon he yelled a warning to Sarah Beth, who still had clothes hanging on the line, that a rain was coming. He would have offered to help if she was Herewardi or Sharaka, but the Quailor had a taboo about strangers handling their clothes. Hartmut was busy smoking his venison over a slow fire of alder wood.
“Smells great!” Sur Sceaf said. He dismounted to visit his friend.
“I’d be glad to smoke your buck for you if you’re too busy.”
“Going Snake is doing it in exchange for the pelt and antlers.”
“Lucky boy, I was going to offer the same deal.”
Sur Sceaf settled on an upended log for a seat. “What is your opinion of Fromer’s behavior, so far?”
Hartmut smiled, “Much better than usual, but I’m concerned he’s gone undercover. Don’t let the pressure off that rattle snake’s head. I know he’s had at least one secret meeting with some of his dycons, but at least, he’s doing nothing overt to cultivate dissension or strife. But still, I’d be wary of the coils of that serpent. You might have gotten his head, but he can still put the squeeze on you with those coils.”
Sur Sceaf returned the wave of a passing group of maidens rushing to take the clothes from their lines. “I’ll keep that in mind, Hartmut.” He took a piece of half-smoked meat and remounted White Fire to take him back to his corral.
Next, he visited with Margot and the three Prester ambassadors. Margot thanked him profusely for the grain he had sent her and Rip said, “A most impressive land, Sur Sceaf. I’m loving it.”
As he walked White Fire to the corral he felt the first drops of rain. He reached down to pat the horse. “White Fire, I think it won’t be long til we go home to Witan Jewell. A much nobler spirit is starting to take hold in the camps. Just have to wait a spell to test my belief.” White Fire snorted and rolled his eye up to Sur Sceaf. “It’s alright old boy, you’ll soon be home with all your ladies. Just be patient.” When he reached the corral, he spotted a Sharaka dog soldier riding through the grass at full speed toward him. The choker and ankle feathering told him it was Crippled Wolf, one of the sharper scouts that traditionally surveyed the rear for surprise attack.
Crippled Wolf stormed up the hill to Sur Sceaf on his paint, his horse snorting as he reined him in to a sudden halt. “My lord Sur Sceaf, the sentries have spotted the Wose coming this way with a large band of Columba Rogues and several Quailor families following. Snake Horse sent me ahead to alert you. I spoke with the Wose and he said to tell you ‘it is not good news but that he wishes to convey it in person.’ He did mention there was an attack in Salem and there have been casualties. I have no idea how many.”
Sur Sceaf felt a sick feeling rumble in his stomach, he could do little more than imagine the worst. “Damn it, I warned them. How long ago did you leave them?”
“About an hour ago on the water gourd,” Crippled Wolf said.
“Are they being pursued?”
“No, my lord. The scouts all report no signs of Pitters.”
“Has Mendaka been notified?”
“Yes, my lord, I reported to him only a few moments ago before he sent me to you. He wished me to convey, because it is so urgent, that he is going to assist them with a band of dog soldiers right away.”
“Excellent! Return and escort the Wose and his company into camp. I will gather the leadership of the Quailor by the Tyranus’ Oak in the center of my camp. Bring them there.”
“Right away, my lord.”
Sur Sceaf went directly into the Quailor Camp and informed Elijah of the situation and instructed him to bring the leadership and to meet him at the Tyranus Oak. He also recommended that they bring a Hospitaler wagon for treating any possible injury. As he rode up to his camp he was under a crushing dread, wondering what ill tidings the Wose would report. He found Pyrsyrus and Herewose practicing their bow together. After relaying the news, he requested they accompany him to the Tyranus Oak. The tree sat in the center of a large field near his camp.
He chose this mighty ancient oak as a meeting place because oaks were believed by the Herewardi to be a conduit from the world below and to the world above for the gods to impart their aid. Unable to sit, Sur Sceaf paced nervously back and forth before the massive trunk of the tree. The hospital wagon drew up as somberly as a hearse. Doctor Walter Shanks sat next to the driver.
The doctor’s presence was most welcome. Even as a youth, when he was many years the younger of Sur Sceaf, he had performed invaluable service to the Quailor community. The older doctors could readily see he had a greater gift for doctoring than they. He once cured an outbreak of scrofula and cleared up several cases of cholera whereby he showed the water sources were located too close to the pig sties. Thus eliminating and preventing the diseases at their source.
Walter climbed down from the medical wagon, though he looked like a mere boy, his strong farmer hands grasped a black leather medical bag like a seasoned fighter. His first inquiry was, “My lord, dost thou know how many are injured or will need care? It would be helpful to have some forewarning so I can order up more supplies and utensils if needed. The nurses are readying the cots and supplies right now.”
“I’m sorry Walter, you know just about as much as I do. The Wose sent words that there were casualties. I don’t imagine that they all are in immediate need of attention for they have already traveled from afar. But perhaps they have need of further attention which only you can assess.”
Pyrsyrus said, “I have volunteered Face-of-Stars and Xelph to assist you. They will be here as soon as they assemble their spirits and medicines.”
“Xelph! When did he arrive? I thought he went to Witan Jewell.”
“He’s back. Came back with a book on wyrt-cunning to show Face-of-Stars. I don’t think there’s anything between them. They’re just consumed by sharing plant knowledge.”
Walter adjusted his hat and declared, “That would be most helpful. Many hands make for better treatment.” He walked to the rear of the wagon where the nurses had removed the tail gate and were preparing bandages on a nearby folding table.
Elijah inquired of Sur Sceaf, “Did the Wose mention any particulars about those accompanying him.”
“Only that the company consisted of Columba Rogues and Retrenchment people from Salem.”
“Then I hope I am not imposing my religion upon anyone to ask for a moment of prayer.”
“Certainly, not.”
Elijah, Habraham, and Fromer formed a small circle. Sur Sceaf, Pyrsyrus, and Herewose crossed their arms in the traditional Herewardi pose representing the way a good shepherd carries a lamb from the field between his shoulders.
Habraham offered the prayer. “Oh, Holy God, have mercy on our zealous brothers and sisters of Salem. Preserve them in thy tender mercies and deliver them from the evil that has surely afflicted them. Help us not to judge them and bind up their wounds whilst we give them succor. In Jesus Name. Amen and Amen.”
The Herewardi answered, “So mote it be.”
Beyond the branches of the mighty oak, mostly Quailor people were assembling beyond the oak’s reach. Lana’s parents and sisters were anxiously gathered with the related clans of those who stayed behind. All others were asked to stay away.
Young Herewose was the first to spot the Wose breaking through the woods at the ford. Sur Sceaf looked in the direction of the ford and saw Wose astride his sturdy black mustang followed by a host of other riders.<
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As they drew nearer he could make out Shug Moss, leader of the Columba Rogues, in his grey tunic, black head bandana along with his distinctive crown of grey feathers formed by a roach of pigeon feathers. Other Rogue riders trailed behind him.
Elijah shielded his eyes, “I recognize Rudolf’s Suffolk punch, but where is Veruschka?”
Habraham said, “I pray, at the rear with the children.”
Sur Sceaf glanced toward the clutch of waiting relatives and could see that Lana’s parents had also recognized their son-in-law. For a moment he felt hope. But as the group drew nearer his hope evaporated. Rudolf looked utterly downcast. In the distance Sur Sceaf could see approximately a hundred Colomba Rogues and approximately thirty bedraggled and weary looking Quailor barely sitting their mounts. Many of whom sported bloody bandages.
Sur Sceaf turned to Herewose and said, “Tell Walter, we are going to need another wagon and more nurses.”
The Wose had a trail worn look on his face, Shug appeared battle weary. Sur Sceaf exchanged looks with Pyr.
Elijah sighed before declaring, “I fear it is even as we prophesied.”
Crippled Wolf directed Wose up to the Tyranus Oak where he dismounted at the tip of the oak’s reach and handed the reigns of his dark horse to Crippled Wolf.
Wose approached. The others dismounted.
Wose was the first to speak. “Greetings, my lord. I come bearing evil tidings of woe and sorrow.”
Shug Moss came forward and doffed his roach off to Sur Sceaf. “I did not think to be seeing you so soon, Lord Prince Sur Sceaf.” He bowed at the neck. “I was called upon to fulfill my promise sooner than I expected. The Pitters are flooding into the West in numbers greater than in living memory.”
“Sadly, Shug, I knew too well what was coming.” Sur Sceaf added.
Shug declared, “You had been gone only four months when the Pitters laid siege to Salem. Thank the gods and Lady Fortune we were doing trading and stopped in to check on the people like I promised. We discovered they were under attack and would not have lasted much longer had we not arrived precisely when we did. But most of the damage and casualties were already done.”
Shug was about to continue when he yielded to the approaching Rudolf. Verushka’s husband was a mere shell of the man from when they last left them in Salem. Hollow eyed, he had the worn and torn look of a man emotionally bereft, and it appeared from the sling he wore that an arm had been broken and by the crook in it, was roughly set. His usual arrogant condescending and religious zeal appeared entirely extinguished. Sur Sceaf surmised his worst fears had been realized. He glanced at the Durers and saw that Heinrich’s face was ashen and his wife was holding her handkerchief squeezed to her mouth.
“Brother Sur Sceaf,” Rudolf said, in an emotionally wracked voice, “I should have listened to thee. My God, my God, why could I not hear?” he wiped the snot from his nose as he sobbed. “As thou didst warn me, I have brought upon myself the death of my beloved wife and children. I come before thee the proud fool that I am.” He bowed his head. “And I now must eat the bitter dust of those whose deaths I brought upon them. While they lie in the dust of their graves, I must walk the earth in an open one. Alive, but dead in here.” He smote upon his breast.
Fromer declared, “The Lord shall reward thee, for thy sacrifice, Brother Rudolf.”
Rudolf’s dull demeanor switched immediately to a face of raw fury. “Thou canst take thy reward to hell with thee, Brother Fromer. I wish to God, I had never listened to thee and thy damned ideas on Retrenchment, but I have only myself to blame.”
Fromer took two steps back. His face turned as ghastly pallid as a ghost. He held his fingers to his lips as if to refrain from speaking or defending himself anymore and slithered off out of sight.
Sur Sceaf said, “There is much to be said, but let’s save it for the council fire. The hospitalers are already attending the injured and afflicted. For now, your people appear bone weary with worry and I see that some of you dycons have been hurt and injured. Summon those that need medical attention and I should like to meet with you Rudolf in council fire. Our first concern is getting your people proper medical attention.”
Elijah tearfully said, “And while you are being attended to, we’ll find a place for everyone to sleep comfortably tonight.”
* * *
Dr. Shanks and his trained team of young nurses went to work on the injured refugees, treating wounds, lancing some, setting broken arms, and re-doing poorly done amputations. Elijah saw to it that the forlorn brethren were settled into comfortable accommodations while hospital tents were set up for the injured and all were properly fed. Elijah issued orders to his people to leave the Refugees alone until they had ascertained what had happened and not to traumatize them with questions until their spokesman, Rudolf, had informed the high priests of what had happened and they had an accurate account.
Rudolf’s arm was broken by a Pitter mace right before he ran the hell-rat through with a pitchfork. Sur Sceaf watched Xelph assist Walter to reset Rudolf’s broken arm. Shug and Wose were required to help to brace the strong Quailor as Walter re-broke the bone and worked it properly back into place. After a roaring yell, Rudolf settled down. He moaned as Face-of-Stars wrapped the arm tightly in gauze. Xelph administered a concoction of healing herbs and poppy tears mixed into apricot brandy, which Rudolf eagerly drank down for the pain.
Xelph had carefully measured it out, just enough to take the edge off the pain, but not enough to make Rudolf loopy. “Wish I could give you more poppy milk, but this will hold you until the council fire is over.” Xelph handed him a small bottle of poppy milk. “Take this after the council fire and you’ll sleep like a baby.”
Xelph slipped the bottle into Rudolf’s coat pocket.
“I thank thee, young man. This hurteth like hell. I can’t wait til the meeting is over.”
“You’ll feel a little better once the brandy and poppy starts taking hold.”
Rudolph took a generous swig of the brandy concoction, letting some trickle down into his dusty beard and bowed his head as a sign he was ready.
Sur Sceaf nodded. “Gentlemen, I bid you join us at this emergency council fire we have convened for your sakes. Please relieve us of this burden of imagining only the worst. Report the living and apprise us of the fallen.”
“So let it be done.” Rudolf acknowledged.
The men walked out to the oak tree to wait for everyone who had been called to arrive. Because Sur Sceaf wished for this meeting to be held in privacy, he stationed a young blood fyrd to hold back any curious on-lookers and had the Columba Rogues camp next to the fyrd. Campfires and torches were placed in areas to guide people through the camp.
Yellow Horse handed Shug a flask of Hrusburger wine to restore his spirits. The Columba Rogue took several generous swigs before wiping his chin with the back of his hands.
Sur Sceaf waited an hour until all the leadership were assembled beneath the oak along with Pyrsyrus, Herewose, Yellow Horse, Xelph, Elijah, Habraham, and Fromer. Mendaka, Wose, Rudolf, and Shug stood together. Long Swan sat before his portable desk acting as scribe. Each took their seat around the moot fire. This being a moot fire, Long Swan explained that only truth must be spoken and that to tell a lie carried severe penalties.
“Who wishes to speak first?” Sur Sceaf asked.
Shug and Rudolf looked to Wose. Wose had cleaned up in all the time it took to prepare for the meeting, by bathing in the cold river and then feasting privately with Mendaka and his family.
Wose said, “I will begin the tale of woe, my lord, in all its horror. I was on my way to Salem before I was to go to the Ochoco when I crossed tracks with an unusually large band of Pitter hell-rats. I tracked them along the rat lines heading up to the Whilamhut Valley from Eugene heading directly for Salem. Trouble was, they were independent bands and criss-crossed. Some headed north, some south and the one I stuck to headed west to Salem, but none of the tracks were returning to the Eugene Zonga and o
nly a smaller contingency headed in the direction of Newport. I was several days behind them and pursuing as fast as black fury would carry me. The problem was that bands left them and other bands joined them as if they were doing a thorough sweep of the entire valley.”
He fell silent. Yellow Horse offered, “Wose, if the telling be too hard for you, I overheard much riding in with the Quailor. Perhaps I should speak.”
“No, thank you lad. It is a tale I am reluctant to tell and it is a tale no one would willingly choose to hear, but the innocent deserve to have the truth recorded.”
Shug handed Wose the wine flask, “Take a swig of this, Wose, it’s the only thing that has helped push away the images of what we saw and it will make the telling easier.”
Wose took a large drink. “By the time I got to Salem it was utterly destroyed, nothing much left to salvage. With dead Pitters scattered all about. So many that I had to dismount and lead Fury through the carnage. And I found many dead Quailor, men, women, and children beneath the heaped up Pitter bodies.”
Habraham gasped. Elijah said, “Oh Lord, my God, is there no help for thy sheep?”
Fromer inquired, “Wert thou able to identify any of them?”
“I searched for personal possessions that might give a hint, but there were none. Under a collapsed fence I found one was a man, approximately forty winters with a distinctive crescent shaped birthmark on his right cheek.”
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 38
