Pyrsyrus half jokingly turned to Sur Sceaf with an air of forewarning, “Oh Surrey, you will have to keep the reins tight on Muryh. I have learned Father has commissioned him to be your Master Builder. The man is driven by a daemon for building. Exhausted me and my entire kingdom, I tell you. You need only remember how he drove the workmen at Fort Rock. There was hardly a man that didn’t curse his name by the time the south gate was finished.” Pyr drank some kefir.
Lana said, “That may be so, Pyr, but none died from it and none were seriously injured. And look at what a mighty fortress stands there now. In fact, Fort Rock is so comfortable and accommodating that I didn’t want to leave. I can only imagine thy palace must be exquisite.”
Donya declared, “Oh, Lana, ju must see it. It look like a jewel to me. When ju sail into the East Sound, all ju see is a Faery palace.”
“I’m just warning my brother to keep a close eye on Muryh, because he has visions of building like the Amerika Giants did.”
Taneshewa took a sip of kefir. She ran her tongue over her lower lip, causing Sur Sceaf to be helplessly aroused.
“Who are the Amerika Giants? Are they the Old Ones in the Mountain Scrolls that Meny has been teaching us about?”
Sur Sceaf jumped in. “They were the race that lived in this land before we did. We call them Giants because they built buildings twenty and thirty stories high. Muryh thinks he can build them twelve stories high. Maybe taller. Maybe he can.”
Taneshewa blinked at him, a puzzled look on her face. “How can anyone build that high? How can buildings that tall even stand? I remember when my uncle, Onadaga, tried building a sweat lodge out of stone, and it collapsed on him as soon as it was as high as his head. And surely, the wind would blow such a structure over.”
Surrey couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked when she scrunched her face into a frown.
“Oh, it can be done,” Sur Sceaf said. “Muryh did it. Muryh was given the Book of Architects from the Taxus Builders. And then he figured out how to use these things called arches, pylons, and buttresses. It was knowledge the Elves had delivered to the City-State of Omala and was preserved by the Roufytrof, all these years.”
After several rounds of conversation and delectable dishes, Pyr stood up from the table, grabbed a pitcher of kefir and said, “Well, my ladies, Surrey informs me that the purpose of this breakfast was for the benefit of Taneshewa, so that she could ask any question she wanted about how Herewardi families live and function. Now, if you will excuse us, the two of us shall retire to the campfire outside while you all have at it.”
* * *
As the two brothers departed the tent, Taneshewa noticed how much their smiles looked alike. She had heard her mother say of Lord Pyrsyrus, ‘I have heard that he is the tallest man in Herewardom as well as the richest and most handsome. Now that I’ve laid eyes upon him, I see that it is true.’ Taneshewa sensed that her mother was likely trying to steer her in Pyrsyrus’ direction, but to her, Sur Sceaf had the most appeal. He spoke to her spirit which no one else ever did.
Now that she was alone with Lana and Pyr’s wives, she decided she would ask whatever came into her mind. Taneshewa grinned, “Lana, does Surrey have any annoying habits?”
All of the ladies laughed.
Lana said, “Don’t all men. It is the nature of the beast. Surrey is no different. Surrey cougheth too loud. You’ll be sound asleep and he cougheth loud enough to wake the dead. It’s quite jolting. And oh yes, whenever he sitteth, he can’t be made to get up, no matter how badly he’s needed. He forever clicketh his fingernails during poetry readings or plays and shaketh his leg whenever he sitteth. And I chust have to warn thee, he is a trickster to the core. His tricks border on the childish, like stealing cookies or pouring cold water over your back while bathing, or jumping out to scare the bejeebers out of you in the dark.”
Faewylf nodded, “Pyr does the same things, but I think he’s worse with how much he crowds you in bed and shakes that lion’s mane of hair he has when it’s wet.”
The ladies laughed and giggled. Taneshewa found herself laughing as they acted out their husbands various annoying behaviors. She had to admit she found their company pleasant and uplifting. She could almost picture herself as one of them and it seemed they felt much the same way.
She ventured another question, “But surely some of the sister-brides are impossible to get along with. How about it, Lana, is there a bride-sister that you don’t get along with?”
“Honestly, Taneshewa, I get along with all my bride-sisters. But, I must admit, Swan Hilde hath issues of jealousy. Especially with Faechild, who is so stunningly beautiful and talented as thou wilt see. Methinketh it is because Swan Hilde is such a perfectionist and striveth to overachieve.”
Face-of-Stars laughed. “You all can’t be serious. You only have one man to be annoyed with. Think of your poor husbands, they have to deal with multiple annoyances and I would imagine at certain times of the month that could very much resemble a cat fight.”
Taneshewa weighed all that she was hearing. The ladies passed around some nut cakes and one of the cooks filled their pretty porcelain cups with a warm black tea. After taking a sip of the tea, she found it both strong and deliciously fragrant. Then Taneshewa squarely asked Faewylf, “Has anyone ever been selected, whom the bride-sisters later rejected?”
Faewylf looked thoughtful. “I suppose there must have been.”
Lana interjected, “Don’t forget Clotilde.”
“Oh, of course,” Faewylf declared.”For instance, Surrey and Pyr’s father, Sur Spear, chose a cunning seductress for his eighth wife. Her name is Clotilde and she was originally from the Kingdom of Zamora, I believe second cousin to the Wose. During the eighty-eight day fallow period and during the interview she shone brightly. Pyr’s mother told me she was utterly charming and very modest, but shortly after the honeymoon she introduced such a spirit of contention and conniving that every bride-sister repented their acceptance of her. She became so cantankerous that none of the covey could get along with her. So they voted to take away her voice.”
“What! They cut her tongue out!”
“No, no.” Faewylf laughed. “She was rejected and not allowed to be part of the Swannery, a member of the bride-covey. Sur Spear loves her, but she was required to live alone on the coast at Charly’s Harbor where she dwells with her one remaining son, Melyngoch, whom she promotes as a divine child. Sur Spear continues to visit with her once a moonth.”
Taneshewa’s interest was peaked. “About that interview…”
The blast of a hunter’s horn outside the tent shocked her into silence. Everyone grew quiet.
Lana said, “A silver harrier. The news he bringeth must be important for him to blast his horn.”
The ladies looked at each other then rose in unison and went out the tent door.
Outside, standing in the light of a torch, Surrey and Pyr were speaking with the silver-clad youth of around fifteen winters. His silver tunic was wet with either sweat or the morning mist and his hair was dripping.
After a moment Surrey dismissed the messenger who rode off toward Witan Jewell. Surrey and Pyr conferred for a moment before Surrey turned and walked over to them.
Lana said, “Dear, thou lookest upset. What’s happening?”
“I’ve just been told that the scouts have located a Pitter legion that must have come down the Umpqua from the Eugene Zonga and have set up their camp at Woon Stone. We shall have to marshal our forces immediately. I’m sending the harrier on to Witan Jewell to inform Sur Spear and to request reinforcements. I’ll be leaving a supporting force here to protect our camp. Pyr, Dak, and Crooked Jack will assemble our forces and I will leave a twelver to watch over camp. In the meantime, if you will excuse us, I shall escort Lady Taneshewa back to her tipi.”
Taneshewa hugged the ladies and said, “Thank you for a very enjoyable breakfast and conversation.”
Faewylf declared, “We all enjoyed this very much and would
love to have you come back anytime. We already think of you as a sister.”
* * *
Sur Sceaf took Taneshewa’s arm and folded it in his as they walked down the path. “I hope you enjoyed our family breakfast. The ladies weren’t simply being polite. They really mean what they said, whether you marry me or not, you will always be a sister to them. To the Herewardi, the words brother and sister are not said lightly, they really mean something.”
Taneshewa looked him square on. “I must be honest I was not looking forward to this breakfast. I felt that I might be on display or on some sort of trial, but early on I sensed a magical bond between you all and I felt a part of that. I’m not ready to say yes that I will marry you, Surrey, but I’m farther from ‘No’ than when I came. I’m glad you convinced me to come.”
He stopped in the path and looked directly into her eyes. “Ahy, I’ve told you many times how much I love you and want you to be my bride. I’m doing all in my power to help you with that decision. If there is anything else you wish to know, or any test of my sincerity, please call on me. And if you have anymore questions for the ladies, I am sure they would be eager to answer them.”
She gave him a dimpled smile. “I know that you’re capable of killing a grizzly to protect someone you love, how about a Woondigo?”
“The Woondigo is an old friend of mine. How about I bring you a dragon’s skin instead. I hear they make wonderful, water proof dresses.”
She slapped him on the back, “Just like Lana said, you’re always the trickster. How could you catch a Woondigo? It’s a retributive spirit being.”
“Someday I’ll show you.” He took her hand and kissed it. “I’m not tricking you now, my love. At least, not until we are married.” He took her hand again and they continued down the path.
After a while she asked. “What did the runner say to you? Did the runner tell you how many were in the legion.”
“Usually a legion is around five thousand, but Snake Horse hadn’t yet made an accurate account when he sent off the harrier. Snake Horse did say he believes it to be the same hell-rats that attacked Salem because he spotted the same pea-green flag Shug reported in Salem.”
“And you said they were camped at Woon Stone.”
Sur Sceaf nodded.
Ahy looked surprised. “Well, don’t the fools know, winter could seal them in and there is no way to get an army out of those mountains when it hits. They probably have no hay, the roads will be like mud, and surely they cannot know about the crushing Narrows that face them in less than two miles from where they camp. According to what you told me, they don’t dare come into Herewardi Lands where they would face sure slaughter.”
Sur Sceaf smiled. He was thrilled and had no idea Taneshewa was so keen at military tactics. He had to assume it was her father’s strong influence. A natural born strategist, she had hit every important point in the coming battle. “In all truth, I have to believe the Norn Sisters have heard the prayers of the Quailor and have delivered them into my hands.”
As they approached her tipi, Going Snake’s hound, Fur Puller, let out a mournful howl. Sur Sceaf laughed, “If it weren’t for that hound, we probably wouldn’t have had such a... colorful first encounter.”
She smacked him on the arm. “Ssh! I still blush over that.” Then turning serious said, “I shall burn sage for you and your warriors and pray for your success, my lord. May the gods protect and shield you.”
She went up on her tippy toes and gave him a warm peck on his cheek before darting into her tipi.
Chapter 25 : A Cup of Vengeance Mixed With A Cup of Grief
After Surrey left, Taneshewa ran over to her parent’s tipi where she was greeted by Sagwi, Little Doe, and Meny. Fortunately her father had gone hunting before dawn, so they could speak freely.
“How’d dhat breakfast go?” Sagwi asked before she even entered.
“It went well, Sagwi, I’m glad I went. The ladies clarified a lot for me.”
Meny grinned, “So the marriage is back on.”
“Not exactly. At least, we will be taking it slower.”
Her mother offered her a drying cloth for her hair which was laden with morning mist.
Meny shook her head. “I’ll never understand you, Ahy. You have the man of every woman’s dream and you choke on a few problems the size of gnats. Hell, I’d swallow a horse to marry a man like that.”
Ahy finished drying her hair and hung the chamois on a rack near the central fire.
“Meny, you know as well as I do. I’ve got netted in a charming man’s snare once before. I can’t afford to take the bait again. I was so sure Standing Bull was right for me, right up until the moment I realized those charming words were no more than lies that I wanted to believe. I can’t do that again. It would destroy me. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my time.”
“I certainly don’t mind, dear,” Little Doe declared.
Going Snake burst into the tipi. “Mama, I heard Surrey tell Papa to get the dog soldiers ready to march, the Pitters are coming.”
“Oh dear,” Sagwi said, “we best be grabbing our clubs.”
Dancing Rabbit said, “We have to get word out to Onamingo. He should be here.” She started to leave the tipi.
“Wait Mama, the Pitters are not coming, they are camped at Woon Stone.” She quickly repeated what Surrey had told her.
Meny said, “Well, that’s bad enough.”
Little doe said, “I have faith in Mendaka and Surrey.” She grabbed her shawl. “But I doubt he will have time to stop by. I’m going to the savannah to see him off. Anyone care to join me?”
The troop of women made their way out into the savannah where the fyrds and dog soldiers were assembling for the march. Taneshewa was taken aback as Surrey sat his mount so handsomely in his red uniform and silver armor like the knight on the catechism cards.
The troops were amassing in an orderly fashion. She could see he was in his own element. She and Little Doe moved in near where the officers were assembled. It had been less than an hour ago that she and Sur Sceaf strolled up the path together. She marveled at how quickly he had developed a strategy and how well he clarified it to his men. She could easily ascertain that he had taken every life into consideration and had diligently designed a strategy that would be for the greatest good of the greatest number.
When the troops were all fully assembled, Mendaka beckoned to Little Doe. She kissed her husband goodbye, while Taneshewa went up to Surrey and touched his boot.
She said, “Hurry back, we have much to settle.”
Surrey leaned down and touched her face gently. “Promise me a kiss and I will wade through Hellheim to return.”
“I promise.” He leaned down and kissed her then smiled warmly before riding off in the lead with Mendaka, Pyrsyrus, Crooked Jack, and Ilkchild together.
* * *
Around noon, Sur Sceaf led his fyrd and Mendaka led his dog soldiers up the Umpqua Trail towards Woon Stone. Although no warrior is ever eager for battle, this time Sur Sceaf felt sheer predatory joy at the chance to engage the very legion that had sent out the band of hellions that raped and wreaked havoc, mayhem, and murder at Salem.
In the damp chill air of the morning with grey overcast clouds and lingering mists hanging in the forest, Snake Horse had scouted out the hell-rats and reported back that there were approximately twelve hundred hell-rats, who for the most part were bivouacked in the meadow east of Woon Stone along with their camp whores and servants which numbered approximately fifty more. Snake Horse admitted that he could not be sure of the number because white women all look alike to him and he may have counted some twice or perhaps not at all. The majority of the Pitters slept beneath the stars as only their officers had tents.
Snake Horse declared, “My lord, since we gave our last count, my scouts have discovered a makeshift corral in which they keep approximately twenty Quailor children.”
Sur Sceaf was stunned. “We may have just found the missing children and
some of the captives. By the gods, if we can turn the horror of Salem into a rescue. For many in the Quailor camp this will turn the ashes into roses.”
“But that will change our strategy, my lord,” Ilkchild said. “It means we’ll have to do a night rescue and at the same time create a distraction. Then at first dawn we go forth with the original plan.”
“Damned, Ilkchild! You are quite the commander.”
“I’m sorry Fa, have I over stepped my authority?”
“Yes, you have, but I like it. You’re thinking for yourself and that is the prime mark of a good commander. I’m proud of you, son.”
Ilkchild could not contain his pride and lit his face with a broad smile.
Snake Horse had left several of his scouts in the area of the Narrows where the trail passed through two large upthrusts of rock forming two impassable walls. The Herewardi had named it the Stone Gate. Anyone who passed along the trail had to come through these narrows as there was no other passage into the Umpqua Valley. Just as Ahy had understood, anyone who held the Narrows could hold off any force to great advantage.
“It is just as Snake Horse reported and as we had planned, but I judge it prudent to go over our strategy one more time. Sur Sceaf turned to Ilkchild and said, “I want you and the young bloods to go up where the enemy is bivouacked and feign a surprise engagement with them. Press them until they have marshaled all their force, then quickly feign a retreat to this narrow gap where you shall hold your ground until the dog soldiers arrive from their rear with reinforcements. Give me three points of the medicine wheel to take up our positions at their rear, then initiate the battle, Ilkchild.”
Ilkchild saluted. “I will make it so, Fa.”
Turning to Crooked Jack, he ordered, “I want you to position yourself on the hillside to the south before these walls. Take my fyrd and hide fully camouflaged. As soon as the young bloods stop up the bottle neck, fall upon the enemy with your arrows first and then your knives and blades. Pyrsyrus, you are to take your fyrd on the north hill and do likewise. Then as soon as Mendaka and I have circled with the dog soldiers to the rear we shall follow in and close off any hopes of their retreat. It shall be a great and awful day of judgment and vengeance. I pray to Tyranus the slaughter is great. Praise the gods.” He drew his sword. “Remember Verushka! Remember the slaughter of Salem. Give them blood for blood.”
The Frightful Dance (The King of Three Bloods Book 2) Page 43
