Going Snake swallowed a piece of hard tack, “Thank you. Do you think Lord Sur Spear won the day? Melyngoch’s troops took a horrible beating before the king arrived, but it grew too dark to see what the final outcome was.”
Russell declared emphatically, “Fa Fa always wins. After Fa, he’s the greatest warrior in Herewardom.”
Arundel stood up. “The trees we have been felling and hurling into the ravine have been causing the most damage. I know you’re all exhausted, but we should continue our work here.”
Jim boasted, “I ain’t the least bit tired. Just another day of work in the Summer Lands.”
The striplings ran over to the ledge.
“Watch it, “Arundel warned, “you must be careful near this edge. You don’t want to end up down there with them, or worse, broken on the rocks before you get there.”
“What will we do?” Bnimin asked.
“Well, we don’t want it to be like the Battle of Frink Glen, where Walker and Yggep got away. We want to stomp this vileness out of our land forever. Let’s make it impossible for them to work. Get your bows and Bear Jim and I will cut timbers down on their heads.”
“If we can get enough leverage, we can dislodge some of these larger boulders,” Brekka suggested. “They’ll cut swaths through the Pitter ranks like a ball on a bowling green. Bowling for Pitters anyone?”
“Count us in,” the twins answered in unison.
Bear Jim remarked, “This little honey bee is a smart one, ain’t she. Just like her daddy, brightest man I ever knew.”
“She’s a cut above us all, Jim. I’m proud to call her my sis.” Ary declared and then admonished the girl. “Do it, but be careful you don’t go sliding down with them. This scree is mighty slippery. Russell and Ev-Rhett go fetch a large pole and help your sister. Bnimin, you and Going Snake can start digging out under the boulders to loosen them up.”
Bear Jim threw off his sear-sucker shirt, then standing in just pants, boots, and suspenders, he moved down the cliff toward the mouth of the canyon below and chose a particularly large madrone with wide spreading branches which he began hacking at. “When this tree strikes she’s gonna rake a hundred of those demons with her claws. Trouble is you can’t ever tell which way a madrone is gonna fall.”
Ary and Redelfis were busy sharpening their axes. Brekka was occupied instructing the boys in the size of pole she wanted. After they hacked off the branches, she took and wedged it behind a mighty boulder and with three valiant tries dislodged it, sending it like a thunderbolt crashing and bouncing down the mountain into the Pitters below. Sounds of crushing timber and screams of agony assailed their ears.
Bnimin said, “I never realized war was this awful. It’s a terrible thing to kill a person, isn’t it?”
Bear Jim looked up, cleared his throat while he chopped at the large madrone. “That’s because you are a good boy, Bni. You have feelings for people and you value life. But if you ever saw what these monsters can do, you’d never stop killing them. I’s about jour age when the Pitters killed my family. Threw my younger brother and baby sister into the air and speared them like a flounder, then the demons just laughed about it. The scenes I saw are like having a wildcat gnawing inside your gut day and night for the rest of your life. The horror never goes away. It’s why I live in the wild. Ain’t no Pitter’s ever coming to get me again… Or so I thought.”
Bnimin’s head dropped.
Bear Jim continued hacking at the mighty madrone. The sound of grinding stone stopped him. A loud crack caught Ary’s attention. He turned from his tree to peer over the edge. Bear Jim ran from his tree. Without the large boulder to hold the earth, tons of stones and dirt slid away under the feet of Brekka and Going Snake. They were hurled with the debris over the slick rocks into the steep slippery fern gulley below. Ary attempted to leap for them, but it was too late. The madrone Jim had been hacking loosened its hold on the ground and fell into space, crashing below and exploding into hundreds of pieces. Arundel got as far out on the ledge as was safe, but could not see where the kids’ bodies landed through the still lingering fog.
After the debris and branches settled into a dead quiet, Ary edged farther out on the ledge and strained to see through the dense mist below, he could hear the cries of Pitters, but it was impossible to see anything. He was in shock and just hung onto the cliff frozen in horror.
Everyone was silent.
Arundel gave out a gut wrenching scream that rocked the canyon walls. “Nooo!” He fell back from the cliff into the dust of the ground and threw it over his head as he groaned in agony and wept.
Bear Jim walked over to him, knelt down and then placed his hand on his back. He said nothing.
Ary lifted his head and wiped the dust and tears from his face. “This is a dream, Jim. This did not happen. Damn it, why didn’t the gods protect them? Why didn’t I just let them watch?”
Russell asked through tears, “Will they eat them?”
“Sssh!” Bni said.
“Well, it’s true.” Ev’Rhett said, “They eat kids, same as we eat rabbits. I heard it from Crooked Jack.”
Ary rose up from the dust and tried to pull himself into composure for the children’s sake. He took Ev’Rhett in one arm and Russell in the other and then in a very tight voice cried out. “Woon, Woon, Woon, this was all my fault. Oh! My gods, what have I done. Sweet Brekka! Gentle Going Snake!” And he wept bitterly squeezing the twins tightly to himself.
Bnimin said, “I didn’t know war was like this. It reads so much better than it looks. I always thought it was better to flee war than engage it, but now I see, it cannot be fled.”
Bear Jim put his hand on Bnimin’s shoulder. “If you choose the life of a warrior, you have to be prepared to handle such bitter losses, and stand your ground, little Jywd. It’s about who can draw the most blood, who can kill the most enemies, but there are also times when it’s wise to flee.”
* * *
The fog lifted off the land and the sun broke through most brilliantly, betraying the dark deeds done. The battlefield was chopped up with ripped turf from horses’ hooves and the bloody struggle that had played out there. The ground was littered with scraps of red, olive green, and black clothing with the blood drenched earth turning black and tarry.
At first light, Sur Spear set a contingent to transporting the remaining Pitter bodies off to the left of the field for burning in the bone fires. Others put to death any Pitter survivors that had been passed over undetected in the night, while at the same time gathering any surviving fyrd members that were hidden in the night, unable to ask for aid. These were taken immediately to the medicine tent for tending by the Quailor hospitalers. Hacked off limbs were picked up for burial; if they were Herewardi limbs, rings of honor were removed for their wives and offspring.
By late afternoon the Pitter bodies were all stacked like logs along with any hacked off limbs bearing their tattos and most were burned down to ashes in the roaring bone fires. Other fires had to be freshly lighted and as they added to the fire the Pitters yellow protruding teeth smiled back at them like demons out of the flames of Hell.
On the other side of the battlefield Sur Spear organized proper burials for the fallen fyrd members in a lovely glade surrounded by large, fragrant bay trees. The hospitalers washed the bodies of the fallen warriors, anointed them with scented oils and spikenard, then wrapped the bodies in the customary linen burial swaddling. The fallen were then laid to rest in a mass grave. After the grave was filled in, fyrd warriors filed past the grave, each man placing a stone on the fresh earth while intoning, “Good journey, my brother.” Minute by minute the massive stone cairn grew to a mound.
After all had passed by and laid a stone of remembrance, they formed in ranks surrounding the grave while Sur Spear, as the prophet, priest, and king of Herewardom, wore a white apron upon which was written the black letter of daleth inside the letter omicron, symbolizing the door of death opens to the womb of rebirth. In his hand he held the priest
ly shepherd’s crook representing the Man’s Wagon star mark or the Wagon of Heaven in which all the dead and slain are carried by the gods to the Halls of the Elven Fathers with the Valkyries leading the procession on their wild swans. There they would rest from their labors and take refreshment until they were to be brought back to Ea-Urth in the woman’s wagon, or small dipper, as the Quailor are wont to name it.
The air was still and thick with silence. Sur Spear felt as though the world were underwater.
“It grieves me,” he roared, “to be laying a father, a brother, a husband, a son, and a fellow warrior into an unsought and premature grave. Oh, Great Father and Mother of the Herewardi Race, prepare a place of glory and rest for those of your children we are returning to your care. Receive them in the honor of your great mead hall. Give comfort to those they have left behind, and permit them to aid us in our righteous cause upon Ea-Urth. Shape it so.”
The ranks echoed, “So mote it be.”
Wycliff, Sur Spear’s silent young steward, the son of Ethelfric, released the white pigeons. The birds were from Witan Jewell and Charly’s Harbor telling of the tally of fatalities in the Battle of Raw Top. After the pigeons had circled and flown away, the stone masons immediately set to work building and cementing a dolmen together with a large sword sunk half way to the hilt signifying that only the resurrection can pull the sword of death out to release the inhabitants of this grave. In another glade Snake Horse prepared his fallen braves on their burial platforms and chanted his farewells.
At the conclusion of the ceremony Sur Spear returned to his command post beneath the wide spreading branches of an old bay tree to meet with his commanders and contemplate various strategies beneath the wide spreading branches of the tree spirit.
“Do you know the lay of the canyon here?” Sur Spear asked.
“Yes,” Melyngoch said, “Don the Umpquan has hunted here. I will send a beetle for him.”
When Don arrived he explained. “The hollow slants downward except for that one large stone pile about two plow lengths from here and the land remains flat for about seven hundred yards beyond the mound. That is when it twists on the west side for about another thousand yards so that the floor of the canyon angles on the west mountain and drops you into a fern ravine where neither man nor beast can hold their footing, so slippery is the fern gulley. Which then drops into an even steeper briar filled gulley about two hundred yards across. The mountain on the right is a solid perpendicular rock face and nothing can go up it.”
Melyngoch added, “My scouts report that the majority of Pitters that have survived the battle have taken a defensive stance in the meadow. Only the band of woods and the small ridge separate us from them.”
“Were the scouts able to observe those in the gulley?”
“No, the terrain would not permit it.”
Snake Horse inquired, “What numbers did the scouts see?”
Melyngoch sighed. “It was a massive force. The scouts estimated in the neighborhood of two thousand legionnaires and that was just the ones visible.”
Sur Spear declared, “We have all told, including the dog soldiers, fifteen hundred warriors.”
Beoelf said, “They have superiority of numbers and the high ground. They have to come out sooner or later. If we go in, the slaughter will be too great for us. Best we should wait them out and force them under our blades or even starve them out.”
“In the Battle of Frink Glen,” Snake Horse said, “we had the Pitter’s bottled up.”
“It appears to me,” Onamingo said, “we are going to win this day if we hold our own here. No sense in sending men in there to needlessly die when they are forced to come out to us where we can safely whittle them down. I would recommend--”
The council was interrupted when a green beetle messenger dashed over to Sur Spear.
“Have we the number of the Pitters trapped in the briar hole yet?”
“Yes, my lord,” the beetle said, “According to normal legion configurements six hundred is the estimate.”
A guard suddenly appeared in front of the pfalz tent and saluted. “My lord, Commander Hornmead sends word that a number of the Pitters have climbed to the top of the rock pile mound and are cutting down the trees there. He cannot ascertain their purpose at this time.”
Sur Spear and the others immediately rose and moved into the open. The Pitters were swarming over the mound, cutting what few trees were on it while hauling the branches from the bottom up to the top.
“Would that they were within the reach of our arrows,” Beoelf lamented.
Two dark cowled priests looked on as the Pitter soldiers built some sort of stone work, just beyond a bow’s shot away.
Sur Spear said, “Fyrd Heretoga Leowulf, check this out. It may be a tactic to get us to come in and lose the advantage of the mouth of the canyon while they make a break for it. Place the bowmen back behind us and ready them for a charge while we hold our ground here.”
The stone structure was taking a box-like shape approximately navel high and two man lengths long.
Sur Spear stroked his beard. “That looks familiar. Where was it I saw this before?”
“My lord, don’t you remember,” Onamingo stated, “Thunder Horse’s description of this structure in the tale he told about the Battle of Tahlequah. It is an altar.”
Sur Spear drew a harsh breath. “By the gods, it is, exactly as he described to us.” He felt a sickness grip his stomach. “I saw this altar in the Battle of Banderas, down in the Taxus. They do this in the name of their god, Angrar.”
Snake Horse said, “It is the sacrifice they perform when they wish to accumulate as many slaves to accompany them into the next life before they die.”
Sur Spear said, “It is a monstrous act. The worst part of it is they believe the God Angrar favors the sacrifice of children. I’ve heard of them even sacrificing babes in arms. They believe it will turn the battle to their favor. They want us to stay and witness this as a form of terrorizing us. That’s why they’re up there. Don’t you see man, it’s a staging area.”
“What God would favor such a perversion?” Melyngoch asked as he signaled his groom to bring his mount. “Oh, lo there! They’re leading out two bound children with their heads covered by sacks.”
“That is my brother!” Redelfis yelled.
He ran toward the Pitter altar with sword drawn, but was stopped by Snake Horse.
“Be not rash, my boy.”
A reaction of anger and horror rippled through the fyrds.
Beoelf said, “By all the Holy Elves, they are really going to sacrifice children right in front of us?”
Redelfis thrashed and faught to get to his brother. Several warriors had to subdue him. He cried in rage and screamed in fury.
“Get the lad out of here,” said Sur Spear. “Bind him if you must. This trial is beyond his age to bear.”
“It’s a clever ploy,” Snake Horse said. “They’ve got us by the balls. If we go in, we lose keeping them entrapped. If we hold ground, our children die.”
“Perhaps we should send a few archers in close enough to take their priests out.” Onamingo suggested.
Sur Spear declared, “I fear if we did that, they would kill the children instantly. As long as those children live, there’s a chance some bargain can be struck. I pray Odhin casts us some morsel of hope.”
The black cowled priests climbed the mound to the altar. Behind them, four Pitter legionnaires carried their banners with black crosses on them. Following them were four dark-clad priests with shaved heads who pulled the struggling children up the makeshift stairs to the altar.
Snake Horse said, “By the Thunder Beings we have to save them. I cannot live a life in which they are left to die in this fashion. Surrey and Dak would never forgive us.”
Sur Spear was in agony. “In my heart I feel the same urgency as you, but as a king, I feel the necessity of restraint. This is a court of doom. Clearly they wish to draw us out to save the children, but to blind
ly fall into their trap would lead to a massacre of my troops.” Sur Spear declared, “We have to wait. If they defeat us here, they will have a clear path to Ur Ford and we’d have no hope of building a stronghold against them.”
Onamingo added, “It tears my heart, but I must agree with you, my lord. We must win this battle, no matter what the costs. We mustn’t let them blackmail us because of our sentiments.”
The king let out a long sigh. “May our gods help us to endure this evil moment.”
The Pitter banners waved their black crosses over the altar. The four Pitter priests bound the kicking children securely to the altar. Then the priest knelt before the altar and pulled the hoodwink off the lad.
Sweet faced Going Snake did his best to appear stoic, but tears and trembling chin belied his fears.
Onamingo breathed deeply, trying not to cry out in anger.
The Pitters bound the girl-child and ripped the hood off her head. Brekka’s waves of red hair flowed out like rose petals upon the altar. Sur Spear’s heart leaped to his throat. Four Pitters wearing the distinctive plumed helmets of commanders, two with green plumes and two with red plumes, lined up and kneeled near the altar.
Sur Spear felt sick to his core. “I shudder to think of what will become of this world if we do not prevail against such fiends.”
Fergenstream nodded, “You have chosen the best path, my lord and king. These tactics of terror are meant to evoke response. It is highly likely that they expect us to take action. That we have not will create seething anxiety in them. The Pitters are people that thrive on deceptive tactics and will assume that we have fashioned a plan. Threatening our children is the dying gasp of a crippled army. If they fall here, Eugene is open to be conquered.”
Melyngoch offered. “Let us consider they have not yet brought their Commissar for the sacrifice. The children will not be sacrificed without him present. It may be we can launch a rescue.”
Sur Spear turned from his men and with hanging head went his tent. “Before we embark on any course, I must call upon the gods for guidance.”
Witan Jewell Page 33
