Dream of Legends

by Stephen Zimmer

  They were fashioned of birch bark sheaths fitted over light timber frames, a few being roughly of the same size as those of the Onan, and several that were substantially larger. Rounded at each of their extremities, the more prominent vessels all had a distinctive hump in their side profiles, located at their approximate midsections.

  Several conical structures were set farther back from the river’s edge. The constructs were covered in overlapping bark sheeting, laid over frames of five inward-leaning poles that had been lashed together with cording, fashioned out of strong, durable roots, towards the top. The frame formed by the lengthy poles created a broad, circular base for each of the edifices. Additional narrow wooden poles had been laid upon the outside of the structures, to help reinforce, and keep in place, the bark panels.

  A flap of animal hide covered the entryways to the dwellings, which varied in size from structures that could hold just a few people, to others that could probably hold a dozen or more. There were a couple of more elongated structures, of a generally elliptical shape, that could be seen even farther back amongst the trees.

  The surfacing of the bark panels on the dwellings were painted generously, with reds, yellows, blacks, and whites being among the predominant colors employed in the ornamentation. Many of the images were of natural forms, those of birds and other various animals of the forest. Janus picked out the outline of a broad-antlered moose depicted upon one of the nearer dwellings, as well as the form of a great bear on another.

  Among the non-organic images that Janus identified were a considerable number of shapes that were variations based upon a common theme. These involved the use of lines that had matching, backward curving ends, which formed a kind of bracket. The brackets often served to frame other geometric designs, some being quite intricate.

  The double-curving lines were oriented in a number of ways, sometimes even set back to back, with variances in the depths and angles of their curves. Whether part of a complex or simple design, the distinctive shapes appeared to be common on the surfaces of the conical structures.

  A large number of people were moving among the dwellings, engaged in a wide range of activities. A few men had evidently just returned from a fishing excursion, bearing distinctive three-pronged wooden spears, fashioned with sharpened bone points. The ends of the spears had prominent, spiky extensions in the center, the latter flanked by two smaller tines, whose endpoints were angled backwards in such a way that anything skewered upon the middle prong would be gripped and held in place by the other two. The implements must have been quite effective, as two of the men in the group were struggling to carry forward what looked to be a few large salmon, which had been strung together through their gills and mouths.

  Several of the inhabitants of the riverside village paused in their endeavors to watch the approach of the incoming Onan canoes. Faces both pensive and curious turned in the direction of the river, as tools and other implements were set down.

  As Janus studied the village and its occupants, Ayenwatha explained to Erika, Kent, and himself that the people that they were about to meet were the “Masters of the Great Waters.” They were the people of a tribe called the Lnuk. While not part of the Five Realms, the Lnuk enjoyed very good relations with Ayenwatha’s people.

  Their Great Saqmaw was an individual named Membertou, a very wise man for whom Deganawida and many Great Sachems of the Five Realms held a high degree of respect and trust. Membertou was now a very elderly man, but Ayenwatha indicated that many, both of Membertou’s and Ayenwatha’s people alike, had great confidence in his son, Tumel. Ayenwatha commented that there was little question that Tumel would be chosen to succeed Membertou by the Lnuk tribal council, after the venerable saqmaw had taken the Spirit Road of their people.

  Ayenwatha then remarked to Janus and Erika that the saqmaws of the Lnuk were chosen in a manner much different than the way in which the Five Realms chose their sachems, but there was no trace of judgement in his voice. It was very evident that Ayenwatha harbored deep respect for Tumel, both as a courageous warrior, and as a future Great Saqmaw of the Lnuk tribe.

  According to Ayenwatha, the tribe had once been a part of another Confederation, known as The People of the Dawn. The Lnuk had been one of the few tribes to survive a terrible period of war called the Forest Storm, which had involved the tribes of the Five Realms, and was thankfully long past.

  The people of the Lnuk were divided among seven territories, each with its own saqmaw, the greatest of the territories being Membertou’s region. As such, Membertou held preeminence among the seven saqmaws, which was why he was recognized as the Great Saqmaw of the Lnuk.

  After the ferocious wars had finally begun to fade into history, the Lnuk had made a truce and cultivated a friendship with the Onan. It was not much longer before that friendship had spread to the other tribes of the Five Realms. The development, in Ayenwatha’s eyes, proved yet again the ancient Wizard and Grand Council Founder Deganawida’s wisdom; that war was not the path for a flourishing people to embrace.

  The Lnuk, Ayenwatha explained, traveled and fished upon the Great Waters. He attested that the Lnuk canoes were constructed very well for traveling upon Great Waters. Ayenwatha held no doubts that the canoes of the Onan, though very capable in the streams and rivers of the tribal lands, were not suitable for the Great Waters. As he listened to Ayenwatha, it became apparent to Janus that it was the matter of vessels that had brought them to the Lnuk in the desperate hour of need.

  The mention of the Great Waters, and Ayenwatha’s desire to seek the help of the Lnuk to travel upon them, came as an absolute surprise to Janus. He had thought that they were simply going towards another rendezvous with a Midragardan vessel, as they had done before.

  It was evident that his companions had also been caught by surprise, as different degrees of anxiety and excitement manifested in the wake of Ayenwatha’s pronouncement. Despite the unexpected circumstances, there was no time to question the Onan war sachem, as the convergence of the canoes with the shoreline was imminent.

  A number of Lnuk men came down to meet Ayenwatha’s party, as the vessels drifted into the shallows. Several were armed, with long lances, bows, or spiky clubs, the latter fashioned from a spruce tree’s taproots. A few of the warriors carried long shields, largely rectangular in shape, with rounded tops. Although they carried weapons, the men showed no sign of hostility.

  A few dogs, smaller of build, with elongated heads and lengthy muzzles, scampered about the Lnuk warriors, sending up a chorus of excited howls at the sight of the newcomers.

  Ayenwatha exchanged lively greetings with a few of the men at the forefront of the awaiting group, each of them obviously familiar to the Onan sachem. Each saluted the other with the phrase “My Kin Friend”, words which boded well for the impending visit, in Janus’ assessment.

  Ayenwatha’s words sounded noticeably halting in their delivery to Janus, and he quickly realized that the Onan war sachem was addressing the Lnuk in their native tongue.

  For the most part, the Lnuk men were attired in hide leggings, with loincloths fashioned of a supple hide that was accompanied by a girdle about their waists, the softer hide looping over the girdles in front and back. Hide pouches were secured to the belt-like girdles, and many of the men wore sheathed knives at their breast, in a manner not unlike the Onan warriors. A few of the men had loose, knee-length outer robes of either fur or hide, worn like capes around their shoulders. All wore moccasins on their feet.

  Their ebon hair was predominantly worn long, unbound, and loose to the shoulders. Only a few of them had a lock knotted at the top of their heads, the narrow leather strips securing the lock in place hanging down in back. More than one of the men wore adornments of small bird wings upon each side of their heads, while a few others exhibited one or more feathers.

  Most noticeable about the men’s appearances was the conspicuous glisten to the surface of their skin and hair. The sheen was unmistakably from application of some sort of oil,
which left a lustrous coating in its wake. Janus wondered if such oils had a pragmatic reason behind their use, or were simply cosmetic.

  The Lnuk assisted the Onan warriors and the exiles as they picked the canoes up and carried them from the water to the shore. Once the vessels had been set down upon solid ground, Ayenwatha begged leave of the exiles, to go off to talk for a few moments with the Lnuk.

  Janus attentively watched the Lnuk as they interacted with Ayenwatha, gauging their moods and reactions as best he could. Their faces looked grave throughout the discussion, and there were more than a few somber glances cast back in the direction of the seven exiles. There was little mistaking the serious nature of the conversation, which was not entirely reassuring to Janus.

  Ayenwatha broke away from the Lnuk, and came back to let the exiles and Onan warriors know that they could find places to rest among the trees closest to the shore for the time being. He gave no indication as to the course of his dialogue with the Lnuk, other than to say that it might be a while yet before he came back again. He then returned to resume his deep conversations with the Lnuk.

  The Onan warriors and exiles moved away from the shore soon after. They kept together, gathering within some unoccupied ground among the trees, located a short distance from where Ayenwatha was engaged in his discourse with the Lnuk.

  Several within Janus’ party, exile and warrior alike, then saw to their physical needs in the relative privacy of the nearby woods. They stretched out tightening muscles, or took advantage of the period of respite to just sit down and relax for a little while.

  Janus relieved himself first, using a large tree to shield himself from the sight of any others. He then came back to where the others were grouped, easing himself down, and bracing his back against a broad tree trunk. There was little talk among the seven, all lost in their own thoughts as they waited to learn something more about the next part of their journey.

  Janus passed the time by watching the activity within the Lnuk village. He observed some village women skimming a thick substance off the top of the boiling contents within a strange kind of kettle. The kettle, as Janus came to recognize, had been fashioned of a hollowed out section of wood.

  A “pot” of stitched birch bark was suspended near another open fire. Janus watched with interest, as one of the Lnuk women carefully removed a heated rock from the flames, and plopped it into the rather unusual pot.

  He could see that the Lnuk utilized wicker-woven baskets made of tree shoots, as well as a distinctive style of bags fashioned from reeds, grasses, or bark. A variety of weaving patterns had been used to fabricate the various bags, which were dyed in a range of colors.

  The women cast some furtive glances in the direction of the exiles and the Onan warriors. While their interest in the newcomers was apparent, they were still very careful to keep the curiosity of the encampment’s children under firm control.

  Janus turned his eyes towards a few village men who were making some sort of preparations by a canoe that was set down at the water’s edge. They were placing a couple of long poles into the vessel, as well as what looked to be several unlit torches. Another canoe was being similarly equipped a few paces away. He had no idea what they were preparing for, but he wanted to satisfy his curiosity. He saw little harm in making an inquiry.

  Turning to one of the nearby Onan warriors, Janus asked him, “What are they doing? The ones there with the canoes, the poles, and torches.”

  “Hunting wild geese, or ducks. This is done at night by the Lnuk hunters. Those boats will come back full of birds,” the Onan warrior replied. “They will guide those canoes into the coves, where the birds gather to sleep on the water. They will rouse them with torches aflame, and then knock them out of the air as they circle about the flames in confusion. They will take up the stunned birds, finish them off, and put them in the boats, to bring them back to the village.”

  Janus nodded to the Onan warrior, and looked back towards the men as they continued their preparations for the night hunt.

  After a little while longer, a few women from the encampment brought Ayenwatha’s warriors and the exiles some food. Freshly cooked fish, a good portion of oysters and mussels, and some roots and berries formed the core of the meal.

  Janus discovered at this time what was being skimmed off in the wooden kettles, a kind of butter, which he learned after questioning his Onan companions derived from the boiled fat and marrow of a moose. While he did not find the idea of the butter’s origins very appetizing, it was evidently a very prized source of nutrients for the Lnuk.

  Janus had become ravenous by then, and consumed the food quickly, in as polite a manner as possible. The others with him also ate rapidly in silence, displaying ample evidence of the great hunger that had grown within everyone throughout the long, arduous day.

  The women of the Lnuk looked upon the strangers with great curiosity as they served them the food, though they said very little. The women of the Lnuk were clad in long garments of animal skins that were comfortably wrapped around their bodies, just under their arms. There were what appeared to be thin strips of leather over their shoulders, which acted as a kind of suspender for the wrapping garments. Snug-fitting girdles further secured the attire in place.

  Leggings, moccasins, and separate sleeves of hide or fur rounded out the basic garb of the village women. Their clothing was richly decorated with a variety of materials, such as animal claws, quills, and even teeth, as well as a plethora of colorful, painted designs, many of which echoed the same forms and patterns displayed upon the outside of their dwellings.

  Like the men, they wore their black tresses unbound and flowing, though they exhibited more personal adornment in the forms of earrings, necklaces, and arm and leg bracelets fashioned of quill or shell. The décor extended to their girdles as well, and a few of the women exhibited what looked to be silver coins that had been adopted to aesthetic uses.

  Ayenwatha finally ended his lengthy conversation with the Lnuk, and came back to summon his waiting party. While far more extensive than the last time that they had stopped for a respite, the rest felt all too short to Janus’ weary body.

  There were more than a couple of protesting groans coming from among the exiles, especially from Antonio and Kent, as they labored slowly to get back up to their feet. Their momentary repose had resulted in rapidly stiffened joints, and tightly drawn muscles, causing Janus to grimace more than once as his movements mercilessly revealed each taut bodily area.

  The Onan warriors displayed their usual stoic countenances, getting up much more smoothly. Janus could not fathom that the warriors would not have desired a longer rest, if the truth were to be known.

  Several of the Lnuk warriors from the riverside encampment joined the Onan as they moved to requisition several new boats. A tall Lnuk warrior led Ayenwatha to where most of the Lnuk vessels were kept, singling out seven of the largest craft among those resting upon the beach. Three were sharper in profile and narrower of beam than their kin, but all were of roughly the same length.

  Janus marveled at just how light the vessels were, especially in regard to their length and sturdiness, as he helped in the efforts to carry them down to the water’s edge and turn them over. The men placed the canoes down in the water and slid them out with little difficulty, quickly getting into the sizeable boats as Ayenwatha’s party moved to resume their trek down the river.

  Paddles were soon dipping into the water, propelling the lengthy canoes. The party swiftly lost sight of the encampment behind them, but not before Janus witnessed a throng of Lnuk warriors hurrying to move some other canoes down to the water. The sight of their urgency, in the wake of his party’s departure, troubled him greatly as they disappeared from view at last.

  The Lnuk that had joined them in the new vessels were very welcome additions to the group, as the vessels soon attained a rapid pace that worked in harmonious concert with the flow of the river.

  Ayenwatha informed the occupants of his canoe that
the location of the large Lnuk camp was not far from the ocean, as the semi-nomadic Lnuk spent most of their year in the coastal areas. Janus did not know whether to be relieved or not by the tidings, as he did not know how far they intended to go once they reached the ocean. He settled into a rhythm with his paddle, knowing that time would eventually give him the answer, one way or another.

  Ayenwatha pointed out one special landmark as they traveled along the river. Located up the slope of a great hill, a small cave entrance overlooked the river farther below.

  “A Wizard named Kluskap, who had the great power of turning things to stone, used to reside there,” Ayenwatha explained to Janus, Erika, and Kent. “That cave was the last place that he was seen in these lands, and his absence is deeply lamented by the Lnuk people … much as Wizards who were friends to our tribe are now greatly missed. I believe it is all part of the same mystery.”

  Janus stared off towards the hillside cave, acutely perceiving the melancholy undertones lying just beneath Ayenwatha’s words. He did not know how to respond, though he found it intriguing that the Lnuk, like the Onan, were evidently struggling with the loss of Wizards that had once befriended and aided their tribe.

  Less than an hour had passed when they reached the ‘Gateway to the Great Waters’ that Ayenwatha had spoken of. The sight opened up dramatically to the convoy, as they passed through the last few hundred feet of flanking trees. The river emerged into a wide, expansive bay, which opened into the great seas beyond.

  Sandy beaches ran up to the edge of the forest ringing the broad, crescent-shaped bay. The light of the sun, though just a scant few hours from dusk, sparkled off of the surface of the glassy waters. Whitecaps crowned small waves that rolled towards the beaches, their motions harmonious with the pull of the tides.

  Many seabirds glided high overhead, drifting along the mild air currents, and sending their high-pitched calls out over the bay. Others of their avian ilk walked the lengths of the beach where the waves gently caressed the shoreline. A soothing breeze flowed off of the waters, washing across the flotilla of canoes. It was at once refreshing and invigorating, bringing a salty scent that lingered in the air.