“Oh, yes, like on the cards!”
Sagwi nodded. “Ah! Such a sight. Der was tents wif big ol banners on top. Tents dhat was red and white, pink and turquoise, blue and white, purple and lavender, and every color of dha rainbow while dhose young bloods be tested on dheir strength and ability in dha war games. Even dose white horses, all had pretty dresses and red jeweled bridles on dhem. Dhey did.” She crossed her heart like some of the Rogues do. “And silks like you done never seen.”
Little Doe volunteered, “Pyrsyrus’ women have made their tents into very elaborate nests with weavings of silk and drapes of velvet that are much softer than the wool and hides we use. Some as soft as a baby’s bottom. I know because I was curious and asked them if I could come in. It was like the glory of the rising sun in there. The floors were all covered with cattle hides and sheep skins. It felt so cozy. You’ll find their tent a place you won’t want to leave once you’re there. And then there’s sweet smelling smoke like a pine forest on a summer day. It’s like being in another world. Sometimes that Face-of-Stars plays music on a stringed board and I swear it makes you want to float on the clouds or go dancing like a mayfly across the stream.”
Mendaho got an impish look on her face. “Didn’t you tell me the Thunder Horse had a vision of you marrying a White Lord? So it’s going to happen girl. All you have to do is show up while I have to beat through the brush for a husband.”
“Visions can be wrong.” Ahy frowned. “Remember when Sagwi saw you getting purchased with gold monies and handsome men fighting over you to claim you as their own? That never happened now, did it?”
“That was down right cruel, Ahy.” Mendaho declared. “I don’t deserve that from a friend. Least of all, you. You don’t know that’s not going to happen. Love doesn’t always happen when you think it will. Sagwi’s vision, at least gives me hope that I don’t want to end my days like Crying Bear, unhappy, unloved, and always alone.”
Sagwi said, “She’s as nasty as a badger. Ain’t no man goinna touch that man-eater anyway.”
Dancing Rabbit laughed, “Now Meny, Ahy might be right. That Black Hatter ain’t got money or sword so I don’t know how he could fight for you or purchase you with gold monies.”
Meny said, “Who says I’m interested in old Hard Mud?”
“For Tah-Man-Ea’s sake, would you quit calling him Hard Mud, his name is Hartmut.”
“Well, after I saw that hard body of his, I can see why they call him Hard Mud,” Mendaho said. “Fact is, I dare not go any place he is now. He’s going to kill me.”
Sagwi looked unusually pensive, and Taneshewa wondered why. Finally, she said, “His body is probably dhat hard from dhrowing all dha hay and scything all dha time, like dem Quailor do. Dhey be always a farmin’, busy as ants, dhey is. Probably why none dhem have time to enjoy dhemselves.”
“It’s time you be on your way girl,” Little Doe said to Ahy as she escorted her out of the tipi. “Remember, Sur Sceaf is a good man, a good catch, and a good friend.”
“I didn’t want him because he is a good catch. I wanted him because I loved him. And that against my own will. I was right. Look what happened.”
“Now, now, don’t go to feast with that attitude,” Dancing Rabbit said. “Go to enjoy yourself.”
* * *
Hartmut waited like a fox in the brush alongside a trail leading through the Sharaka camp. His heart pounded with anticipation and fear of being discovered. He had never done anything like this in his life and the blood coursed through his veins in throbs of nervous excitement. He stole glances down the trail leading to the river, a path where he had frequently spied Mendaho walking alone. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had been watching her more than he realized.
Earlier he had seen Mendaho enter the tipi of one of the Sharaka women. He was about to give up and return to his wagon when he saw three of the women leave the tipi. He identified Meny and Taneshewa straight away. Meny was laughing at something the elderly woman was saying. Shortly, thereafter, he saw Meny give Taneshewa a hug and they took their separate ways. Meny came directly down the path towards him. Now I’ve got thee, thou half-wild little hellion. I’ll put a stop to thy pestering, once and for all.
The elderly woman called Mendaho back to the tipi and handed Meny a leather bucket. Swinging the bucket as though she had nary a care in the world, she resumed walking down the path where he lay in wait. He could hear his blood pumping through his head as she approached. It was difficult to remain poised and motionless, but he managed to be mantis still. When she was within three wagon lengths she suddenly stopped to pick a chicory flower, before resuming her march toward the river twirling the flower in her fingers and singing some nonsensical ditty in a different language.
Come on, come on, Hartmut thought. Quit dallying.
He exploded through the brush and grabbed her. Overwhelming exuberant joy overtook him and he felt like a fox when it has sprung on a mouse. “Now I’ve got thee, thou teasing little devil and what art thou going to do about it?”
She dropped the bucket while at the same time she gave a shocked cry. “Help! The Black Hatter!”
He tightened his grip, enthralled by the soft luxuriant feminine body pressing into his as he tightened his arms around her. When his own body began to respond, he quickly stepped back and held her by both shoulders.
Those dark eyes glared at him. “Oy! Let me go, you fool. I was only having fun, Hard Mud.”
“Fun! You call that fun? What kind of person makes fun by tormenting?”
“Tormenting you? I was flirting with you, you fool.”
Hartmut was taken aback, but the thought had already started taking root, even without her saying so aloud.
“Well, thou dost surely flirt weird.”
The mere thought, that a young beautiful woman like this might have an interest in him was foreign to him. He loosened his grip, he had forgotten how wonderful a woman’s body felt to touch and hold.
Mendaho’s cheeks were flushed. “Maybe that’s because I found you comical in the beginning and then I found myself wondering what it would be like if that tight mouth of yours ever kissed me. But I suppose I would be disappointed. So it’s a good thing you never did.”
Before he knew it, he pulled her to himself and kissed her long and hard. “How’s that, thou little she-devil?” He was both shocked at his impulsive action and more excited than he imagined possible.
She, too, seemed a bit shocked. “I’m not sure,” she muttered. “Maybe you should try that again?”
The warmth of her body, the mere touch of female flooded his senses. He pulled Mendaho into him again and slowly, as he made sure there was no protest, he planted a lingering kiss on her lips.
He pulled back, breathed deep, and the excitement that filled his being caught his body aflame. “And my name is Hartmut, damn it! Say it right the next time.”
Mendaho grabbed him hard, shaking him to the point of alarm. “Oh Hard Mud, I deserve so much more punishment than that.” She drew him close and passionately kissed him back, then ran off through the brush.
Chapter 24 : In The Tents of King Pyrsyrus
Sur Sceaf waited, pacing back and forth, inside the ante chamber of Pyrsyrus’ tent. He gripped his gold medallion for luck at his breakfast appointment with Ahy. Pyr and his wives were already seated at the table on the other side of the heavy drapery that served as walls within the tent. His heart heaved in him like a storm tossed sea. He was a man of thirty-three winters, with six wives and thirty three children, but Taneshewa had the power to make him feel like a boy of seventeen, courting a woman for the first time.
“What will I do, if she doesn’t come?” He asked Lana who waited patiently with him.
“If she hadn’t planned to come, she would have sent word. She hath too much regard for people’s feelings to be rude.”
“I’m sure you are right. The fact that she’s agreed to come was the first step, but I can’t help worrying.”
A thunderous flappin
g came from the elderberry bushes outside their tent. No doubt, the mighty flock of band-tailed pigeons that had been feasting there took wing. He told himself, Those pigeons are a good omen.
Lana stopped his pacing with a touch to his arm, “My sweet lord, I don’t think I ever recall seeing thee this nervous before.”
He managed a smile. “That is because, my little Freckle Fox, you did not see me when I was courting you.” Realizing that he was making a fool of himself, he took a deep breath, and attempted to quiet his nerves by repeating the Mantra of the Nine Twigs. But even as he finished the first twig the tent flap was parted and Ahy entered. She was a vision in white buckskin. She shone as bright as the moon does glow. At this moment, she was the very image of the golden fawn in his dream, only now standing before him. She appeared even more beautiful and magical than before. This is a face I yearn to see the rest of my life, he thought. What is this power she has over me?
“Come in, come in,” Sur Sceaf said as he walked over to the door, his voice thin for lack of breath. “Thank you for coming.”
Every sense he possessed tracked her movements and begged for her presence. The white choker with rattle and raven feathers accentuated her long neck. He searched her grey-blue eyes as she scanned the entry way and he tried to discern her feelings. To his relief, she appeared as nervous as he was. A feeling of wanting to kiss her suffused his entire body. Such would bring complete peace to his being, restore his chaotic heart, but he knew it was too soon to expect that much.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
“I almost didn’t,” she said, eying him with an air of suspicion. He took her by the arm and tucked it under his as he escorted her over to Lana.
Lana gave the cordial Herewardi greeting. “Os-Frith! Taneshewa. Hail and well met art thou this day. Welcome to our tent!”
“I hope you will find the comfort and the hospitality you seek in this tent. The women have been so busy making everything just right for you.”
Lana said, “Oh, Surrey, we didn’t fuss that much. Thou wilt make her feel nervous.”
Ahy smiled for the first time. “Os Frith! Peace and well-being to you and yours.” She handed Lana a package wrapped in a rabbit skin. “Here is some copal incense as a small gift of thanks for sharing your tent with me. I knew that you liked it.”
Lana’s face lit up. “What a choice surprise. As a matter of fact we do love copal incense. It pleaseth us all thou hast honored us at this breakfast. Let me begin by saying how sorry I am that my blundering fool of a husband would not hear my counsel to introduce us right away, and as usual he hath had to eat crow for it. But bless his soul, he always maketh right.”
Taneshewa laughed, “Or at least he tries.”
Lana grinned, “And may I say, forgive me for not having revealed my identity to thee. I am sorry. I surprised Surrey with my visit. He didn’t even know I was going to be traveling with him. Paloma, in her great wisdom sent me to be his comfort through this stressful time.”
“Paloma is sort of a chief wife, isn’t she?” Taneshewa asked rather wearily.
Lana said, “Yes, but we call her the faery mother instead of chief wife. I’ll be happy to explain what that meaneth later. The others await us.” Lana touched her arm and said, “Think of this as a family breakfast.” She slid the red velvet drape back to allow Sur Sceaf to escort Taneshewa into the dining area.
As they entered the room, conversation fell silent. Pyr rose up to his full height, came forward to take Taneshewa’s hand and placed the back of her hand between his eyes as was the custom of Herewardi royalty, nobility, and gentry in greetings to a Lady. “It pleases me to have you at my table, Lady Taneshewa.”
He saw Taneshewa relax and a warm smile spread across her face. As usual, Pyr was the graceful lady charmer. Mother Mahallah had said she knew of no other man who was so gifted in understanding women and their needs.
“Lord Pyrsyrus, I thank you for the invitation and opportunity of spending more time with your ladies.”
“You have gotten to know some of them, I understand at the hot springs.”
“Yes, as I remember,” Taneshewa said, “Donya is number six and Swan Ray is number seven, but Face-of-Stars is the daughter of one of your good friends.” Everyone laughed.
Fae Wylf raised her hand and said, “I’m Faewylf, I’m Number two,” and another round of laughter followed.
Lana explained with a smile, “Fae Wylf is our hostess and the faery mother on this trek. And ladies, please note that Taneshewa has brought us some copal incense. Shall I light it now.”
“Please do, I adore its fragrance,” Fae Wylf said. “Now grace us by taking the seat of honor, next to Pyrsyrus.”
As she did so, Donya said, “I hope ju are hungry, Lady Taneshewa?”
“Actually, I am starved. I have not eaten anything in three days,” Taneshewa revealed.
Donya said, “Why ever do you starve yourself?”
“I have fasted to know the spirits of you Herewardi. The Thunder Beings expect such an offering to get closer to the spirits, so that I may know you better.”
Swan Ray said, “What have they revealed to you?”
“I don’t know yet. Perhaps after this breakfast, I will.”
“Then we better get you started on some kefir,” Swan Ray declared with a smile, “it’s the best thing to break a fast with.” Sur Sceaf steered Lana to the table, positioning her and himself directly across from Taneshewa.
Taneshewa scanned the plush surroundings. “This is even more beautiful than was told me. I especially like the furs and the tapestries. All the bright colors make me happy just to be here. I am amazed you can transport all this finery with you.”
Fae Wylf said, “Pyrsyrus is a very organized man who made it all possible to set up and break down with relative ease and yet give us the accommodations we’ve been used to. Since he finished the palace, he spends a great deal of his time at sea or traveling and has left our son Thord in command of his kingdom as the under-king.”
“It was the only way I could get my bride-covey to travel with me.” He turned to grin at Faewylf.
Donya remarked, “He’s a smart man too.”
Just then Face-of-Stars burst through the curtains. “I hope I’m not late! I’ve been out gathering plants for my studies. Do you know, I finally met Xelph.” She said with unrestrained excitement. “He knows as much about wyrt cunning as I do.”
“Slow down girl,” Pyrsyrus said with a twinkle in his eye. “You’re always late. You do remember Lady Taneshewa is our guest.”
“Of course I remember. Xelph was just showing me some plants that I had never seen before and I lost track of time.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s what you two talked about.” Sur Sceaf teased.
“Well dear,” Fae Wylf smiled from the opposite end of the table, “we’ll want to hear all about him later, but poor Taneshewa hasn’t had anything to eat yet. So we better get started.”
Face-of Stars hurried around the table to her chair next to Donya. “I’m pretty hungry myself.” She grinned at Taneshewa. “One thing about the Herewardi, Ahy, is that they like to eat well.”
Pyrsyrus took a small bell out of his silken house coat and rang it. A curtain drew open, exposing the cooks in a tent room with one side open and several small ovens and cast iron stoves.
Taneshewa smiled. “I can see that.”
Before them, the cooks placed one dish after another on the table near Lana. Lana took from each dish and then passed them around. Three kinds of meat, a number of different kinds of bread, fluffy eggs, and toast. Swan Ray took a pitcher from the cook and supplied everyone’s cups with goat’s milk kefir.
Taneshewa picked up a piece of bacon. “It all smells so delicious.”
She filled her plate with each dish that was passed to her. Sur Sceaf was uneased that Taneshewa had not even once looked in his direction.
Swan Ray seemed to be enjoying herself. “Taneshewa, I have not been able
to take my eyes off the dress you are wearing. The bead work is so intricate. Why, those serpents look like they could strike at any moment. Did you do that yourself?”
“I did. I made it a spiritual work. As you can see the owls and the serpents are beings of great spirit-power. I feel like this garment signifies who I am, and at the same time offers me protection against evil forces.”
Sur Sceaf saw his opportunity, leaned forward and in a teasing voice, “Well, I hope you didn’t feel like you needed protection from any of us.”
“Actually, I wasn’t sure.” For the first time since she sat down, she looked directly at him. His heart skipped a beat. “I have learned from my father it’s always better to be prepared.”
Pyrsyrus laughed, “From what I’ve heard, Surrey is the one who could use the extra protection. In fact, I have suggested that he don his armor when he is courting a woman.” Ahy’s smile was like a candle in the dark.
“You mean like the Knight on the Herewardi catechism cards?”
Pyr nodded, “Exactly, you see, you have beadwork and we use chain mail. I don’t know which is stronger, but the beadwork is certainly prettier.”
“Lord Pyrsyrus,” Ahy said as she spooned another portion of egg on her plate, “I have heard you have built up what Surrey called—what did you call it Surrey? On yes, city-states and you have your own island. Sur Sceaf says you also have the best navy to be found anywhere and that you have seven wives. Where might I ask, do you find the time to deal with all that?”
Everyone laughed.
Pyrsyrus grinned, “There have been times when I was numb with exhaustion. When we were erecting the palace, it seemed an uphill battle, but fortunately, I wore the clothes of a younger man then and I had the marvelous support of my wives, and my people, and later after I had proven my sons, they were able to administer.”
He paused to allow the cooks to remove the empty dishes and replace them with new. Pyrsyrus forked another quail onto his plate, passed on the bowl and continued. “Over the years I have learned so much can be accomplished when you pool resources and talents. For instance, the Master Builder, Muryh, was an absolute essential. Without him, we would still be dwelling in wooden houses and primitive dwellings.”
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 42
