Witan Jewell

by Russ L. Howard

  “A new age now dawns upon us. The time has come for us to follow the whale on the Whale Road of the Auvandilean Sea, what the Rogues call the Pasvic Ocean, that we may become a richer and more prosperous people.”

  As he continued Taneshewa leaned closer to Sur Sceaf and whispered, “Have you ever been on the Great Deep of the Aurvandilean Sea?”

  “Yes,” Sur Sceaf whispered back, “from the ages of twelve to fifteen winters, I attended the Skaldic Academy on the Coast of Maiden Head.”

  She realized there was so much about Surrey she had yet learn. “Have you ever seen a whale before?”

  “I’ve seen many swarms of them. What they call a pod.”

  “Are they really as big as they say?”

  “The first time I saw one leaping out of the water, it was as if a mountain rose out of the sea. It was a moment of absolute awe. I still don’t understand how something that large could push so high out of the sea.”

  As Hrafn continued expounding on the benefits of whale oil, Sur Sceaf smelled the unusually pleasant scent of white magnolia blossom above that of the incense and heard a piercing voice behind him whisper close to his ear, “This is for you Sur Sceaf. Pay close attention here!”

  He felt the words burn in his breast like a firebrand. He assumed it was Rabbi Amschel who spoke to him, but upon turning back to answer, he beheld it was Yggd, the White Beard, the ancient wayfarer whom he had encountered in the wilderness of Fort Rock, with his two sharp eyed ravens perched on each shoulder.

  The old man sat nobly in his deep hooded Saxon-green cape lined with Herewardi knots. Sur Sceaf thought it strange the wayfaring man should be granted admittance into this august assembly here and to be placed in Sur Sceaf’s corral and sit in the Empty Seat of Ancestral Honor at that.

  Sur Sceaf smiled at him and politely asked, “Who vouched for you to be in this assembly, my friend?”

  Yggd answered, “Your father vouched for me. Said I should take up ‘the Empty Seat.’ I would not miss this meeting for anything in the world.”

  “You are as much a puzzle to me, now, Old One, as you were in the High Desert. For a while I thought you to be Woon in the flesh. I hope to see you again after the assembly. I enjoyed our conversation in the High Desert and will be curious to learn how father is acquainted with you and what our kinship is.” At that the ravens gave a chortle and the old man winked, then he turned his attention back to Raven’s Tongue’s speech. Still puzzled, for to sit where he was sitting meant this old man was more important than he had originally perceived.

  Onamingo leaned past Ahy to whisper to Sur Sceaf, “The old one with the ravens. Do you know him?”

  Sur Sceaf whispered back, “Maybe. He is called Yggd, I have met him, but I’m still confused as to his identity and his place in our society. What’s for sure is that he is kin.”

  “I would call this fate, or what you Herewardi call wyrd. You see, many years ago in our exodus from Tahlequah, he is the very one who appeared suddenly and sojourned in our camp for several moons. Many times, he led us to water holes where we could find none. But he told us then he was called Yung. He would disappear for long periods of time, but had us follow his ravens and each time there was a new water hole. Otherwise, we would have surely perished. We befriended him and invited him to make his home in our camp amongst us. He did for a short while teaching me great wisdom and mysteries of the heavens. He is the one who foretold that one day Ahy would be a queen unto our people. A strange thing, since we have no queens. Then one morning when we awakened, he was gone, leaving only a raven’s feather behind. That was ten years ago and he hasn’t aged a bit. Dancing Rabbit told me she thought he was a thunder being, come to earth to help us survive the Arid Zone. There were times we wondered if we weren’t hallucinating.”

  Sur Sceaf reflected on that day in the High Desert, but Raven’s Tongue was reporting with such passion, it drew his attention back to the speaker.

  As Hrafn stretched out his arms wide and shook them in his black silken robe with a Tlingit raven embossed across his back and two others embroidered up the sleeves, he explained, “The seas have been calming lately since the earth changes have ceased. The burning star no longer comes close in the sky. One winter so long ago that nobody can remember how long it was, the earth changes came in an instant and brought an end to an age which had ripened in violence against the human spirit. All the cities collapsed into ashes and heaps of ruin.

  “It was an age that could not have a future. It would appear now that a new age is dawning. The terrible shakings have ceased, the crushing icebergs are fewer and fewer, and we can venture further out to sea now than we ever could before. Indeed the seas are so calm that Lord Sur Spear has ordered the shipwrights to quicken their pace in building ships in Ur Ford and Maiden’s Head, and even in Charly’s Harbor. The Young Prince Melyngoch has set his hand to ship-building. It is the will of my lord, Pyrsyrus, to show Lord Sur Sceaf the many benefits of the Deep, as Sur Sceaf builds up the coastal settlements into fortresses and city-states equal to the ones in the Sand Wand Islands.”

  An elder seated in the valley of the South, asked for the floor and when recognized by Sur Spear, asked, “But what about the grinding ice that remains and the horrible sea monsters that have destroyed so many merchant ships along the coast in years gone by? Surely they have not fled.”

  Hrafn coughed. “I thank you for that astute question. Over the years we learned the shark-wyrm and the kraken are only attracted to blood. Only few have ever encountered the behemoths or the leviathans. They occasionally attack whale, but, otherwise, they do not prey on men. One must however be cautious in small boats during kills as the kraken’s tentacles have a long and raking reach from which there is no escape.

  “I have encountered only a few in all my days in the Deep of the Aurvandilean Seas. I have met Mexus and Citriodoran seamen who have had worse luck, but perhaps they merely pass such tales off to scare off the Sea trade. I also want to emphasize that there are no more of the great shaker waves and the grinding ice mountains as I reported are fewer and smaller.

  “We can become the masters of the Deep beginning on the Aurvandilean Sea and someday even send our influence as far as the Aegirean Sea in the east, but only, if we have the will, the heart, and the courage to do so. I have a plan for the deep, and I will show you how to open this clam and let us all out of this shell of land we have been too long trapped on.”

  The same elder claimed the floor again, “But if you pass over the bend in the sea, how will you ever get your ship to go back up the water hill? Surely, you will fall off the ends of the earth or be sucked into its hollow core.”

  A buzz of comment moved through the audience with many heads nodding and bobbing. Taneshewa wondered the same thing.

  The Raven declared, “The bend in the Great Deep is an illusion caused by the great distance, just like on land and with calm waters, we can move out as far as we will. Although we call this deep the Aurvandilean Sea, the West Sea, or the Pasvic Ocean, if you go out far enough into it, it is so vast that I am sure it must end somewhere. Perhaps this is where the West meets the East. Perhaps that is why it is said, ‘The Eye of Howrus goes from east to west, and from west to east again’. I hold that the Aurvandilean Sea, eventually meets the Aegirean Sea somewhere, though I have yet to prove it.”

  Again a buzz of comment went up from the assemblage. His face appeared to fill with pride as he said, “For I believe, if given enough supplies and the right crew, I can do it.”

  As the elder resumed his seat, Sur Spear then asked, “Are there boats in Ur Ford like those in Pyrsyrus’ navy that could travel on the big waters safely?”

  “My lord,” Raven’s Tongue reported, tossing back his long black hair, “Turtle Duck, the Cherokee chief from Ur Ford and Mount Hrumburg, has many boats that we’ve used in the back waters of Maiden’s Head and Charly’s Harbor. They are all seaworthy and we’ve been building many different kinds of larger ships with greater capacity like t
hose of Lord Pyrsyrus’ navy. Turtle Duck has been copying our dragoons for greater speed and for upriver travel and has set to building belly ships which can carry up to a hundred and fifty people or more at a time. I’ve shown them the construction of bulkheads and how to fashion belly ships for speed as well as sturdiness and capacity.

  “It takes twelve carpenters six months to build a twenty-six oared ship. We are currently working on something larger than a belly ship which we shall call the Sea Palace so that King Pyrsyrus can manage his far flung duties from the deep and still keep his wives and children in attendance. We have doubled the workers and increased the work hours twice to increase production.”

  A rumble went up again from the assemblage. Ahy was unable to discern if the rumble was for or against the Raven’s proposal.

  The high king directed his attention to Pyrsyrus seated in the front row of the valley of the North. “My lord, King Pyrsyrus, I task you and your staff to increase that number to twelve times twelve carpenters, beginning immediately. I will send out a mandamus to the seven kings to supply the men forthwith.”

  “So mote it be, my lord.” Pyrsyrus stood and saluted.

  Looking pleased, once again the Raven swept his arms high and his large billowy sleeves caught the breeze like black wings as he said in his theatrical peacocking style, “But beyond all I have told you there is yet another reason we need to take to the seas. The spies of the Kalifornias are telling us the Pitters, too, have noticed the seas are calm and now they have already begun voyages down along the coasts. We have it on good report, they have already built a zonga in the Mexus in the South of the Kalifornias to process slaves in lands they have newly conquered. They have also established trade relations as far up as the Frisco Baylands.”

  Raven’s Tongue continued, “Melyngoch reports his spies have even seen shipbuilding in the Pitter settlement of Newport to the north of here. That should be cause enough for alarm. We must be able to match their expansion at sea. Their progress on land has slowed down, for the colonies they formed have all withered like cut flowers in a vase. They are not an enduring race. And as you well know they have been forced to import a base of agricultural people from the Hickoryans who often flee from their forced labor camps into the freedom of the Rogue Nations and among us.”

  Margot said, “The bastards will never enslave us again.”

  As though privy to her comment, Raven’s Tongue glanced into Sur Sceaf’s valley. “So the Pitters have not been successful at maintaining these far off settlements as they had planned without their compulsory slavery and military garrisons to enforce their will over the people. It was the commission of Lord Prince Sur Sceaf to forge the three tribes together and settle them on the coast so that we might both protect them and build up our defenses on the coast so as to benefit all.”

  When Raven’s Tongue completed his report, Sur Spear rose, thanked Hrafn, then struck his long swan three times. “I thank you Raven’s Tongue. You have given us much to think on. This meeting is called to rest and refreshment.

  Sur Sceaf turned around to speak with Yggd-Yung the Wayfarer, but could not discover him. He had simply vanished, leaving only a gleaming raven’s feather on the empty seat.

  Chapter 5 : Mahallah’s House

  While the moot was underway, Mahallah, the mother of Sur Sceaf, was busy decorating her house with holly, ivy, and mistletoe in anticipation of the welcome home party for her son. Her daughters-in-law, Sur Sceaf’s wives, and Pyrsyrus’ wives assisted. Mahallah was always pleased to have Surrey’s many children come to her house during Yule. It was a double delight that Pyrsyrus and his family would be sharing the holiday with them as well. She had placed milk and cookies out for the children and her bride-sisters directed the children in the decorating of the house.

  Her home was a large home, made of massive fir timbers, oaken floors, and yew wood doors, with glass windows and a straw thatched roof. The rooms were large and capable of accommodating many guests. She had cooks, milk maids, and stewards to help with the many chores such a large estate required. Her kitchen staff had been collected over the years from the finest chefs to the most diligent of dishwashers and busiest of maids. This year’s Yule would be special in so many ways.

  Mahallah soon discovered that all the sister-wives could talk about was the young maiden, Ahyyyokah Taneshewa.

  Swan Hilde jabbed a scion of prickly holly in a wreath, took a deep breath, and said, “For Freya’s sake, Lana, Taneshewa’s the same age as your son, Aelfheah, and Paloma’s son, Arundel. Surrey must think he’s still a young blood. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the head of every young blood turned any time she approached. Did you see them? They were like a pack of drooling wolves slavering over her in wanton lust. Certainly, I don’t need to remind you of the trouble Hrethel had when he married that young maid, Luchia. His son lost his position in a young blood fyrd, and ended up running off with her to live among the Sharaka in the Ochoco. Are we ready for that to happen here in our own house, under our noses? Do we want our family fractured like Hrethel’s house was? Just try to imagine the efforts to unite the three tribes all coming unraveled from that. All it takes is one indiscretion from one of these seed filled young bucks and our covey could collapse. I’m just glad I don’t have a son that age to worry about.”

  Lana was stretching out strands of ivy. “Thou canst not believe any of our boys would pay her any serious attention. Boys are just interested in seeing a pretty face, that’s all. What thinkest thou, Mother Mahallah?”

  Mahallah wrapped a red ribbon around several sprigs of soft green yew fronds. “I haven’t even met the young maid yet, so I don’t have an opinion, but knowing Surrey, I would be willing to bet he’s chosen just as well as he has with all of you. And Lana is right, young men are young men. All sap and no brains. Just like any male animal, it pays to keep them penned up or in another pasture if you don’t want any problems.”

  Swan Hilde gloated. “What’d I tell you, Lana? That young thing is going to be trouble for us all. Trouble right here under our own roof. Shades of Hrethel.”

  Mahallah attempted to move the tree, but it was too heavy for her. “Ladies can I get some help with putting up this yew tree. Ever since the Ghost Moon I have been feeling the presence of our beloved dead, and if my ancestral spirits are visiting, I want them to see how much we appreciate their help by keeping the holidays holy.” The ladies all vied to assist. As they wrestled and twisted the heavy tree into position, Mahallah said, “There, grab that end Lana. Hilde tell your little monsters to move their toys. Alright, alright, right there. Now the portals will all be open for the longfathers, my son’s return, and the meeting of this new Sharaka sister-bride everyone is on fire about. Sisters, we truly do have so much to be grateful for.”

  * * *

  The trumpets blared, Sur Spear rose, brought his staff back down, and the audience resumed their seats for reconvening the Moot Fire. Sur Spear called upon the next speaker.

  Turtle Duck, the Cherokee, rose like an eagle in a man’s body to address the assembly, saluting with great majesty. Clad in buckskin, he looked around with piercing glances and his usual disturbing presence of power. The last time Sur Sceaf had seen the old eagle was two years ago on a hunt up the Sixes River. He looked every bit as fearsome and energetic as ever.

  His thunderous voice carried to all the valleys and if there were any pigeons on the roof they would have heard him as well. “Now comes my part. The Raven has told of his experience of hunting the whales by boat and that he will show the three tribes how it is to be done in the great deep. If we go even farther out to the depths of the ocean there will be even more whales and greater runs of fishes. I have been to sea many times with the Raven’s Tongue and it is now as calm as a sleeping baby with very predictable patterns. With the high king’s permission, I would like to present a request that before finalizing the layout and design of the city-states on the coast, that Sur Sceaf first be taught by the Raven and I, the basics of s
eamanship so that the cities may be built with an eye to the sea trade in enriching the livelihood of the city-states and denizens within.”

  An elder petitioned to speak, and when granted, exclaimed to Turtle Duck. “I am still not convinced that the great deep of the Aurvandelean Sea is safe for travel. Before this continues any further, I need to know why the golden oil of the whale is so important as to warrant the risk of lives. I cannot believe my ears. The seas have always been far too dangerous and risky. And just to get oil?” Then turning to face Sur Sceaf directly, he said, “Are you willing to risk the lives of our young warriors in such a venture and allow their blood to come upon your garments in this ill-advised and foolish venture?”

  Sur Sceaf felt the words bear down on him like a heavy yoke. He had no real idea of just what Raven’s Tongue and Turtle Duck were proposing. Frankly the sea terrified him. He glanced at Pyrsyrus who gave him an assuring nod. He rose up from his seat and said, “Yes, as commander that responsibility falls on me and I am willing to take on the consequences. For the truth is, we no longer have any other choice, as we must increase revenue, increase security, and increase in numbers before we could ever hope to launch an offensive against the might of the Pitter Empire.” As he proceeded he felt more and more emboldened and felt the Ur Fyr commence glowing in his chest. “It is my absolute belief that this plan is neither ill-advised nor foolish, as it comes under the advisement of two of the most capable seamen in Herewardom, Ravens’s Tongue the Tlingit and Turtle Duck the Cherokee. Either we become masters of the high seas or the Pitters do. It’s truly that simple.”

  To emphasize this, he drew his sword ‘Snake Fang’ from its scabbard and brandished it above his head saying, “War is now unavoidable. Let us take this sword into the bosom of our enemy, before they can bring it into ours and may we do this by becoming masters of the seas.”