“No, I am of no such tribe and bear you no enmity. I am Mendaka of the Sharaka Tribe from the north, and we are exploring the lands south of us to better know them.”
Mendaka could not help but stare at the plum colored lips and the intense color of white in their eyes set against their startlingly blue skin.
“We did not know anyone else lived on this land, excepting the Chartreuseans across the big stream, and they are our enemies.” Mendaka found himself fascinated by Elmer’s strange lilting tongue. “The northlands have always been too dangerous for us to go to because of the horrible man-eaters. We cannot imagine anyone living there or coming from there.” Behind Elmer, his men looked at each other and nodded.
“We have dealt with the horrors of these man-eaters,” Mendaka said, “but have managed to drive them into submission. We also did not know anyone shared this island with us and that is why we are scouting to learn what this land contains. We come on a mission of peaceful exploration only.”
“Then safe you shall be, Mendaka of the Sharaka.” Elmer turned to two skinny Blue boys, “Gopher and Mel, run along to Apalala and inform Pita we have some very unusual guests come among us and to meet me back at Monongahela if he wishes get a peep at them.” Chief Elmer gestured with one large hand. “Please join us by the fire, for the first rule of our people is hospitality.”
“The rest of my people wait on us up above.”
“They are welcome, too.” Elmer declared.
Mendaka lifted a hand and motioned. When the men with bows, the dogs, and the mules all showed up on the brim of the bowl, the mountainous blue man spewed, “What the hayell?”
To allay his fear, Mendaka said, “These are my men and working animals. They mean you no harm.”
“I’ll be a drillena, I ain’t ever seen anything like ‘em. Dogs of many colors and what are those strange animals with the bulging sides and long ears?”
Mendaka explained to Elmer, “These animals are called mules and they are carrying our wares, you know our goods and food.” He perceived they had no knowledge of pack animals other than dogs by the expression that crept over Elmer’s blue face. “They carry things that are too heavy for us to carry.” He bent down and motioned to his back.
Elmer nodded that he understood. “I am the chief of Monongahela. Normally, we would like to stay and get acquainted, but I have to get this meat home to smoke it before it spoils. Since this is a first encounter, Pita, our chief, will want to examine you at the fort before he would approve you going into Apalala. Won’t you join us at my village on the river while we await his arrival?”
“We would like that.” Mendaka turned to his men and said, “This is Chief Elmer of the Monongahela. He has invited us to accompany him to his village and I have accepted.”
The Blue Men now drew in very close and started examining the Syr Folk clothing. Mendaka signed they were not a threat and signed to accept their curious natures. Several of them gathered around Herman and marveled at his size, felt his muscles, and remarked on their power. Their leader, Elmer, appeared somewhat disappointed as he reluctantly admitted, “A taller man than me! Not seen in these parts.”
Mendaka realized they were like children marveling at the colors and configuration of Syr Folk clothing and shoes. They had none of the boundaries the Syr Folk were used to. He could see that many of his men felt uncomfortable as the Blue Men fondled their clothing to the point of violating all codes of personal space.
Once the novelty wore off and the touching stopped, Mendaka asked, “Where did your people come from before they lived on this land?”
“It has been told us by the Grey Beards that we came from across the Big Waters from a place they called Kaintucky. It was our homeland before the Chartreuseans took us and brought us here to do us wrong. Once upon many deaths ago, this land was connected to another land, but a big shaking came and the Big Waters swallowed part of that land.”
Govannon spoke up, “I have heard of this place called Kaintucky, it is to the east, first across the Big Waters, then through much land, and then across the Middle Sea which has now become a great river. But can you tell me, what wrong did these Chartreuseans do to you?”
“We cannot remember, but the Grey Beards laid down the law that we must never cross back over the Big Stream. If either we or they cross the Big Stream, then death will follow, for it is an old hatred born of some mistreatment.”
“This is something that we understand.” Mendaka said.” We too, have an enemy called the Pitters who constantly thirst for our blood. We have tried to avoid them, but now find that we must destroy them or be destroyed.”
Elmer appeared intrigued, “I would like to hear more of this enemy, but we must hie ourselves to Apalala, where we can show you some true hospitality.”
“We have two mules we put at your service and take a great burden off the backs off your men and dogs.”
Elmer gave a big toothed smile. “I can see you and I are going to be great friends, Mendaka of the Sharaka.” He seemed utterly intrigued by Mendaka’s name. Elmer signaled to a skinny boy, “Jed, go fetch me a skin of the white lightning and give my good man a stout swig or two.” As the boy ran off on his errand, Elmer clarified, “The drinking from the same skin, shows that we be friends.”
Mendaka took a deep breath and stilled himself. He thought the drinking of the black drink ritual was the worst thing he would ever have had to endure, but now he was forced to partake of a drink that was at least equally nauseating, and the gods only knew what it was made from, but courtesy dictated he must. Surrey, you owe me big time for this one.
Chapter 8 : Xelph’s Expedition
By the time they pitched camp at the end of the first day of the trek, Ary was fuming. Had he been in charge of the expedition they would have gone twice as far with much less distraction. Following Sur Sceaf’s direction; ‘To go nowhere the mules could not go,’ Xelph struck a course for Mount Elflohana, which was often referred to as the Great Syr Throne. Keeping to the game trails they had first encountered great groves of giant timber bamboo, then as the morning passed into afternoon they had moved up the base of the mount.
It didn’t take Ary long to realize Xelph was too enthralled with the diverse plant forms of the jungle at the base of the mount to effectively move the expedition along. At this pace they would never meet their assigned deadlines. Every time he encountered some new species of plant he would yell out, holler, and jump for joy. And then he would halt their progress to give a lecture to the crew on the various types of magnolias, camellias, and agathis trees. Even going so far as to suggest the agathis looked to have been planted by the hand of man. Caught up in his own excitement, he failed to notice the bored expressions and rolling eyes of his crew.
Ary overheard Jackie Doo say to Elf Beard, “At this rate, we’ll be very lucky to get off this mountain by the equinox.”
Arundel agreed, but he had to admit he did take joy in the Bletilla orchids abounding in the understory. Farther along the trail, Xelph halted yet again to call their attention to something called a noni tree.
“Long Swan,” he ordered as he added several leaves to his pouch, “please note in your journal that I have named this place Arwud.”
“Noted,” Long Swan said as he took his journal from his pack and wrote ‘Arwud.’
As Long Swan was writing additional commentaries, Sol-Om-On Sunchild exclaimed, “Enough already Xelph! By the Elves of Asgard and the great Jahweh, we are still in plain view of Godeselle. You could easily do these collections on a day trip. You remind me of a dog just released from its kennel. This expedition will never get off the ground if we don’t put someone else in charge. Someone more seasoned and determined than you to keep to the assigned time lines and progress.”
Good-natured as always, Xelph shrugged off the criticism, “I guess I am obsessing too much, but I can’t seem to help myself. This place seems to me to be like unto the garden of the gods we heard of in the folk mouth. It is truly an Idun
.”
Ary was about to offer his own opinion when Long Swan glanced up from his journal to remark. “Perhaps you should keep a separate log, Xelph. To chronicle in more detail the flora and fauna. My focus was to be on landmarks, fertile soils, and potential military assets and outposts.”
Xelph’s eyes lit up. “An excellent suggestion, but that would take much time and care to draw and describe as well as you do.” He glanced around until he spotted Crooked Jack leaning against a boulder, munching on a slice of date bread.
“If you will agree, I will gladly surrender my command to you, Jackie, and will take it back once we reach our destination. That way I think we will all be more content.”
It was all Ary could do to keep from cheering.
The hunched old warrior replied in his gravelly voice. “I’m glad to assist.”
Crooked Jack was at least sixty winters, but he was also incredibly strong and had seen many expeditions and campaigns. Sur Sceaf had said that Crooked Jack was made of finely beaten steel off the forges of the Gods and had always been of the greatest service to the Herewardi.
After taking the lead, Jackie led the crew to the base of the mountains, and then up to a ridge. From there they followed along the ridgeline that ran from the base of the Syr Throne, south through granite and marble outcroppings. They moved along at a rapid pace. Coming atop the ridge crest they could see valleys and ridges as far west as the eye could see and to the northwest large thick forests which turned into tangled jungles.
For a fortnight they stuck to the ridges and game trails in the chaparral along the serpentine soil paths. As they progressed, Long Swan sketched landmarks and drew maps and then made notations in his log of what they had seen. Xelph frequently lagged behind to collect more flora, often not catching up until they had struck camp for the night.
By the sixteenth day, the chaparral had gradually blended into rolling grasslands with occasional brush land. As they set up camp that night, Ary decided he needed some time alone to pray and sue the heavens for guidance.
“Suit yourself,” Crooked Jack said, “Just don’t go beyond earshot. Bad enough I have to worry about that damned plant lunatic half the time.”
After tending to his jack and wishing Elf Beard and his hounds a good night, Arundel followed a side trail to a nice private bare spot in a coppice of scrub oak and ceanothus near some large rocks. He rolled out his blanket and bedroll, laid his weapons to his side and drew in the resinous odors of the chaparral. As he surveyed his surroundings, he identified the pleasant scents of tar weed oil and wild lilac. When he surveyed the ground, he found a perfectly cone shaped stone about one foot in length. He lifted it to give a base for his cape hoping to use it for a pillow. As he casually tossed it to the head of his bedroll, his right hand ring finger smashed between it and another rock, splitting the last digit of it in two.
“Ow! Son of a birch bark bitch,” He cried out as blood spurted out the end like the venom of a spitting viper. He grabbed and squeezed to ease the pain and staunch the bleeding.
Xelph yelled over, “You alright over there?”
“I just split my damned finger wide open,” Arundel yelled back. “It’s bleeding like a rooster with its head cut off. Can you help me?”
Xelph grabbed his medicine bag and ran over to assist. Grabbing Ary’s hand he took a brief look and declared, “Dang it. You really did split it. I’m going to have to dress it or you might lose your finger.”
Xelph poured his flask of water over the wound, dressed it with sphagnum, comfrey, mullein, and honey before wrapping the finger in strips of clean linen bandages.
Ary gritted his teeth, “Damn this hurts!”
“Maybe the gods are telling you it’s time to get a wedding ring on that finger.”
“Well, you’re older than I am and I don’t see one on yours. Anyway, it’s the wrong hand for that.”
“Yes, it’s because I don’t have a way with women like you do. Matter of fact, I don’t even have a pole in the water or a fish on my stringer. You’ve already got four in the frying pan, three on the isle and that cute little Jywdic girl over at Ur Ford.” He reached inside his bag and pulled out a small blue bottle and a spoon.
“What’s that?” Ary asked suspiciously knowing that some medicines Xelph had administered made people dance like jumping beans spit, and writh.
“It’s laudanum. It’ll let you live with the pain for the night.” Xelph administered one spoonful and had a cock-eyed expression that told Ary he was expecting a reaction.
Ary said, “Damn,” winced and said, “That tasted terrible.”
“Most medicines do.” He put the bottle back in his medicine bag. “Theory is, the worse it tastes the more it heals. Least that’s what most people want to believe.”
Xelph closed his leather bag, smiled warmly, and said, “Just call me if you need anything else.”
As Ary looked at the stone he had collected, he saw his blood had left a stain on it and thought, oh well, you’re my pillow for the night. I purchased you with my blood. He placed his cape over the stone and laid back to look up at the brilliant canopy of the starry heavens, trying to distract his mind from the throbbing pain in his hand. Soon it was as if it didn’t matter that his hand hurt. He was within hailing distance of his crew, and was feeling quite good despite his injury, so he offered up his praise and gratitude to the gods of heaven.
His eyes closed. He felt like he was floating. Slowly he drifted into a dream world.
She was beautiful, slim but shapely, with long lustrous red hair blowing in a gentle breeze. Eyes of deepest blue set in a perfectly heart-shaped face that drew him in and enthralled him. She wore a blood red dress from which blew red streamers. She approached him, moving with long graceful strides. She reached out a slim hand and plucked out his beating heart, which she placed on a scale for weighing. On the other scale she placed a swan feather.
The pain was acute and yet he continued to live without his heart, not understanding how that could be. Gracefully, she held up the scale to the sun, wept, and then turned that mesmerizing gaze upon him again. Great storms of roiling black clouds and flashing lightning gathered around her. Paralysis beset him; darkness engulfed him, so dark and silent, like he was falling into a bottomless abyss where nothingness awaited.
After a time he found himself hungering for any sensation. Gradually grew the sounds of war, as though waging from afar. He called out, but none could hear him. He tried to lift his arms, but they would not move. A flash of blue light the size of a tear slowly dispelled the darkness. Battle scenes followed which were vicious and bloody. He tried to turn his head away, but again could not move. After a time, the same regal lady came to him from out of the sky. The most heavenly of music quelled the horrified cries of battle and the bloody images faded in a dark mist.
“Who are you?” he cried, striving to touch her. But she remained just out of reach. “Please!” he cried, only to have the most familiar voice utter back, “Find me! I am near.” Then the red-haired vision in red floated away like a cloud into the crimson sky.
In a heartbeat the whole scene changed. He dreamed there was a fearful cat-like succubus sitting on top of him and a bright blue star fell from the heavens causing it to flee. Just then he felt like he awoke to reality.
An ancient white-bearded man was smiling down upon him with glowing Herewardi knots embossed around the border of his deep hooded cape. On the hood of the cape the luminous knots lit up in the night like fireflies. Ary caught motion to his left and glimpsed a large white cat, three to four times bigger than any panther he had ever known. As he watched, it sprang back into the brush, disappearing like a moon shadow or phantom into the night.
The Ancient One looked him in the face and whispered, “Take more precaution, young prince. Elven-blood is but a thin strand in this world. There is a tiger threatening you and your journey has only just begun.”
Ary, believing he was now awake, decided that the large white cat had probabl
y come up to sniff his head. It was now obvious to him that he had unwittingly exposed himself to grave danger by sleeping away from his crew. He looked up at the Ancient One, his white hair hanging out from under the hood, and the Old Elf walked up a spiral stairway to a low hovering cloud. It ripped open like a veil and then exploded like a burning star across the sky.
Fully awake now, he checked for more signs of reality. Felt the stone pillar beneath his head, saw the starry sky, smelled the buck brush and tar weed once again and asked himself, “Was that the grand elf? Or am I still dreaming? Did I just have contact with a dream watcher or was that Odhin Almighty? Are those drugs Xelph gave me causing me to have these wild dreams and visions?”
Ary got up, took the stone he had used as the pillow, then took his bedroll, and his cape, and walked over to the camp, saluted Crooked Jack, who was stirred by his movement, and rejoined the others where he easily slept till dawn.
The next day, in the light of the sun, Ary examined the cone-shaped rock and found it to be a composite of gold, silver, and carbon. The vibrations it emitted gave him pause to pray. The ur fyr burned in his bosom. This stone was holy and he must hold to it at all cost. Deciding to take it with him, he loaded the stone into a leather bag and onto Ebenezer, his jack. Jackie Doo watched him with a strange expression and scrunched lips.
As they gathered around the campfire for breakfast, he Arundel asked as casually as he could, “Did anyone else hear anything unusual last night?”
Jackie Doo and Xelph laughed, “Only your incessant talking in your sleep.”
“I don’t mean that. Did the hounds sound off at all?” Ary asked.
Elf Beard shook his head, “Not at all lad. Not at all.”
“Well, that’s disturbing news, because there was a tiger here last night.”
Crooked Jack quizzed Ary, “What pray tell is a tiger? Some creature crawled out of Xelph’s medicine bottle, I’ll wager you.”
The Bok of Syr Folk Page 12
