Khem shrugged, “What else is new?”
* * *
By the third point of the medicine wheel, they crossed over another stretch of the stream which Siwel called the Aber Nerves. Xelph called a halt to allow the animals drink and rest. The young bloods changed from their traveling smocks and pants and dressed in their red fyrd uniforms as per Crooked Jack’s orders. His intention was to put his best foot forward.
“We must turn south here,” Yorel said, “and go no further east in order to avoid trespassing on the Ele-Anorean Witch Lands. They are very touchy about anyone moving about their lands without permission. It is said, they consider most outsiders to be profane and cursed.”
“But I thought you said you traded with them,” Sunchild said.
“Usually that takes place only in our village for they are a scary lot with all sorts of magic and their entire land has many ghosts that haunt and ride the air during stormy weather.”
“Ghosts!” Ilkchild exclaimed. “This I must see.”
“The dreadful Witch Queen of Ele-Anor-Ness has been known to turn men to stone for merely courting her,” Siwel added.
Haw-Ba shuddered, “It is said that her beauty is so intoxicating that she must be seen behind a veil for no man can even think straight when looking upon her presence.”
“I find that many beautiful women have that effect upon me,” Ilkchild half jested. “Has she got a sister that is perhaps not quite as dangerous?”
Nauclea-Ba nodded, “She has three sisters of whom it is said they have the ability to see past, present, and future. The whole river of time is laid out before their eyes. They’re the Oracles of Holihs Pond and are jealously watched over by their goddess, Salixia, who has taken more than one of their suitors to a premature watery grave.”
As Ary walked abreast of Siwel, he asked, “Have any of you seen the witch or her three sisters?”
“Yes, I have.” Siwel replied. “I went there as an aide to my Uncle Gyl, an Aber Gaelean ambassador. It was to deliver my sister, Ysys, who is herself quite fetching.”
Ilkchild smiled, “Is she also a witch?”
“No, but she has the brightest mind in our community and found great favor with the Witch Queen. None can match the Witch Queen in beauty, grace, or intelligence, but my sister comes quite close. That is why my father, Chief Eyf, sent her there as an ambassador in hopes she would marry an Ele-Anorean prince, for it is said their royal family all excel in wisdom. It was a great adventure. The queen herself welcomed us in her holy chamber, in what they call her Hyf. She lives in a huge wicker structure shaped much like a giant bee skep. I was paralyzed by her presence the whole time I was there. The whole matter was a combination of awe and terror for me.”
Ilkchild grinned, “You must introduce me to this sister of yours, Siwel.”
The green boy smiled back. “She says she cannot find anyone worth marrying in Arym Gael. Perhaps she might be interested in meeting you Syr Folk and even find one of you to her liking.”
* * *
Long Swan’s Log: It is the thirtieth day of the Moonth of Bird Song, Walpurga’s Night of May Eve in the year 585 HSO.
I scribe this while in sight of the Ele-Anorean crater which thrusts up from the broad flat savannah like a large cone. All Chartreuseans, we have discovered, believe in a Great Spirit, an ethereal essence. Upon questioning, Yorel also explained that the Ele-Anoreans believe there is a personal god that is merely a man or a woman advanced to an exalted state who rules over the lesser gods and goddesses. It seems the Ele-Anoreans, have the path to the great god through direct revelation, much as the Herewardi believe. They call this god, Ha-Tha, and say that for five generations they have awaited a new Ha-Tha who is to come and set the world in order once again.As to why the world is out of balance I have yet to learn, but believe it has something to do with feminine energy overpowering masculine force. I will inquire further.
Most Chartreuseans are worshippers of plants and their wood lore had aroused Xelph’s curiosity. In response to his eager questioning, it was revealed that their color is given to them by ingesting a green liqueur made by a secret method of expressing the essence of mushrooms and herbs in a mixture, the formula of which is only known by a select few sages.
This green liqueur is called in their language, the Ka, meaning ‘sacred life giver’ or ‘the light of God’. Supposedly, it imparts vigor and strength to the body and opens their inner eye. Otherwise, if they did not ingest the green liqueur, they should be white skinned, for all are born white and stay that way until age eight, at which point they start ingesting the Ka beginning on the day after the full moon following their eighth birthday. By age twelve, they are the color of a pale yellow-green, which they call ‘chartreuse.’ Hence from which their name is derived. To the Chartreuseans the Ka means total awareness and is part of their soul. It is that part of their soul where plant and human join.
Xelph believes, and I agree, that the liqueur builds up in their systems in a way that is mildly narcotic and gives an increased awareness to the senses, which they call the Ka Spirit.
The tribe known as the Ele-Anoreans apparently partake of a very different substance called Mirth-Ka, the effects of which we have not yet ascertained. According to the Chartreuseans, the Ele-Anoreans have skin as alabaster as the Herewardi. We hope to someday make contact with these people of the great crater and ascertain the properties and effects of the Mirth-Ka, among other things, but Siwel reports no one enters the queen’s land without her express permission. He was lucky enough to have met her by reason of his chiefly descent which is like unto our royal bloodline.
We are traveling to the Chartreusean village of Arym Gael to meet with the elders or sages in order to learn more of their fascinating culture and also to request that they arrange a visit to the land of the Ele-Anoreans for us. Where could they have come from?
It is my belief that the High Lord Sur Sceaf will be greatly pleased to learn that there is at least one tribe in this part of the unknown lands with the potential of becoming a valuable trading partner and ally, for it is obvious they possess both useful plants and medicines we do not know of as well as what they call beast stoppers, used to arrest the attack of the predatory animals we have so laboriously driven out from our enclosures.”
Long Swan looked up from reading his log. “Is that how you remember it, Ary? Are there any changes you would recommend?”
Ary gave it some thought. “I would only add that the Chartreuseans said that one of the ingredients of the liqueur is derived from the tree they call the nyrth, the same tree we call the agathis, and that they are also able to extract a potent poison from the nuclea tree which they employ primarily for the stunning of fish.”
“Oh, yes,” Long Swan said, “I had forgotten that. I will enter it so.”
Later in that night, as the camp grew quiet and the moon began its rise, the land was bathed in silver, giving it an altogether other worldly quality. Ary lay with his head propped up on his rock pillow, gazing through the open tent door at the dark shadow of the crater in the distance. It was bedecked by a soft white blanket of mist upon which the moon floated like a pearl atop white wool.
Every word he had heard about this magical place now rang true. In his heart he felt he had made this journey before and that he knew the crater as intimately as if it had been his own back yard. From the depths of his soul came a yearning to somehow return to this special place.
Deep calls unto deep. Somehow my life shall once again be woven into that mysterious crater. How he did not know, but he felt its tug in his soul. He gazed into the misty laden roof of heaven as he prayed. Oh Sky Mother Freya! Help me know what all of this means.
* * *
The next day, with Yorel guiding the way, they followed a well-traveled red dirt road, lined with thorn hedges. For most of the day Ary walked with Siwel and plied him with questions about his experiences among the Ele-Anoreans, until, finally, the Chartreusean fledgling, appeared exasperated by all Ary’s persistent
questioning. “I have done all in my power to dissuade you from meeting the Ele-Anoreans, but it only seems to peak your curiosity all the more.”
Ary was impressed by the boy’s perceptiveness. “It is true, but I’m not sure I can make you understand. I just feel an inner prompting to learn all there is about those people. They intrigue me at a spiritual level.”
“You remind me too much of my sister, Ysys. She, too, had this curiosity, and instead of being fearful when my father sent her there, she only grew more eager. Like you, she said, something was drawing her. It made the women of the village say she was bewitched by Queen Zschamillah, for who would want to go into a witch’s nest. Maybe you have fallen under that spell, as well. If so you won’t be the first.”
Ary laughed, but every mention of this exotic queen lingered in his mind like a shimmering light.
* * *
Arundel’s Journal: Today, the first day of the Moonth of Albispiene we passed the great crater of the Ele-Anoreans. I must confess it holds a strong lure for me I cannot account for with reason. Maybe I am bewitched as the Chartreusean lad, Siwel has claimed. I have spoken with several of the Chartreusean fledglings, and they all agree with Siwel, and they have described the queen who dwells in the crater nest, as both beautiful and terrible to look upon. Siwel, in particular, truly is convinced she may be a witch with magical powers. I am consumed with the yearning to meet her, but alas, Xelph is bent on meeting the leader of the Chartreuseans, Chief Eyf, and as leader of the Western Expedition, he has chosen Arym Gael as our place of introduction.
The farther we travel along the thorn-lined road, the more this land of the Chartreuseans takes on a mystical quality of its own. Siwel talked of strange plant curiosities and a special hornet juice the queen uses for energy. Today as we walked through a green tunnel of hedges, I saw beautiful stocky birds which Haw-Ba called superb starlings. They have breasts the color of bright chestnut, and their wing feathers glisten in colors of dark metallic green and blue. There were myriads of other friendly little colorful birds they called lories, which filled the trees while mynahs and magpies abounded in the nearby shrubbery adding to the overwhelming abundance of wildlife this land seems to offer. Someday, I hope to bring my bride-covey here to share in its splendor.
* * *
All day long they traveled the hedged Green Tunnel on the dusty red road leading into Arym Gael. It was sunset when they set up camp for the night. While Red Fox built a campfire for cooking supper, others set up the large red pfalz tent, which intrigued the Chartreuseans to no end.
“How far is it to your village Yorel?” Ilkchild inquired as the lad helped set up the pfalz tent.
“We’ll be there just a road length after dawn.”
“Well, that’s good,” Ilkchild said, “because I was beginning to think we’d never get there.” He stepped outside the tent to relieve himself and shouted back, “I hope their food is better than what we’ve been eating.”
Ary chuckled at Ilkchild’s impatience, remembering how his nigh-brother was always fixated on any goal and would not let go or slow down until he got there. He reflected on how close they were as friends. At least as close as Xelph and Long Swan, whose friendship stretched all the way back to boyhood and up through the academy.
After their evening meal, he retired to the Tent and continued to write down his observations and questions. Finally, Jackie Doo reminded them they should bed down. Just as Ary was tucking his journal into his pack he heard a strange hoot outside the tent.
“Whoa! Hurry, you’ve got to see this!” Ilkchild lifted the tent door and pointed to the open grass meadow beyond.
There before them, in the dark, hopping all around, were luminous bunnies that lit up in the dark like fireflies.
Haw-Ba explained, “See! These are some of the creatures our ancestors made. We call them lumi-bunnies.”
“Does the meat glow after you cook it?” Sunchild asked with a laugh.
“Actually, it does, but sometimes it takes on the colors of red and purple as well over a fire.”
Sunchild lifted the tent door up higher to get a better view. “Are your people still making these unusual creatures?”
“No, not anymore. The ruins of our Ancestors’ Civilization are on the coast of Duminabith and can still be seen there lying in ruin. It is said, that after the earth shaking, our leaders made it forbidden to tamper with the rhythms of nature anymore.”
“Why was that?” Long Swan asked.
“Well, many blamed the earth shaking on the tampering the ancestors did with the natural laws. You see they didn’t only make new plants and animals, they made monstrosities in the sea and on the land.”
“Like the one I told you swallowed Ilkchild!”
“Yes, like the dakosaurus that inhabits the Sea, but even worse, we are told, were the creatures that were mixed man and beast, the transhumans.”
“You mean the Blue Men,” Ary asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” Yorel said, “But our great grandfather told us that his great grandfather told him that not all the Blue Men were blue and that the ancestors made them solidly that way by concentrating their seed so that they could be made warriors for fighting at night. They made creatures half-man half-dog, half-cat half-man, and mixed all kinds of frightful traits into strange abominable beasts enough to fill books with their nightmarish appearances. Even awoke dragons from their bones which slept in the earth. But the earth shaking ended all of that, as did the rending of the land, and the burning stars that struck us. We have never returned to those dark works or ways again.”
“And the warriors your ancestors made to defend them are now your enemy,” Long Swan said in a thoughtful tone. “It is a great irony, is it not, Ary?”
“A great irony indeed and one that points up the folly of tampering with the Gods’ handiwork.”
Elf Beard glanced from one to the other, a disgusted look on his craggy face. “The two of you are prattling on about abstracts, while you should be worryin’...” then he broke off suddenly.
Ary glanced at Long Swan who shrugged. “Worrying about what?”
“About what might happen when Mendaka’s crew runs up against them Blue Men. They’re bred to be powerful warriors. Siwel says, maybe even eaters of men.”
“Old Grokking is right,” Jackie Doo added. “If them Blues really are a mixture of man and beast, who knows what might happen, especially if Mendaka’s crew does something to set ‘em off.”
Chapter 10 : White Lightning and the Blue Ceruleans
Even though Mendaka was fairly certain the Ceruleans posed no threat, he ordered his men to spread out among the Blues, keep their eye on him for signaled instructions, and while accepting the invitation to eat and drink, to gather as much information as they could without being suspicious. For their part, the Ceruleans seemed equally curious.
As they sat around the campfire, Mendaka politely held a hand up and refused the drink Elmer proffered. He feared that the strong drink might turn his skin blue and his lips that same plum color as Elmer’s. He couldn’t picture himself a Blue Man. Besides, the drink was a volcano in a bottle.
“I cannot handle strong drink,” he explained. “I go crazy, and the next day my head kills me. For some reason, we Red Men cannot tolerate such drink. We only drink on the most festive of occasions.”
Elmer laughed and smacked Mendaka on the back. “That’s why I drink it--to get rid of the headache.” The chief then offered a slice of meat, which Mendaka readily accepted although he could not identify its origins. It tasted like goat or a hair sheep cooked in rosemary or sage.
“Hmm! Very good meat.” He said after taking a bite. “What’s it called?”
“We call it eland,” Elmer said. “They’re a large antelope.”
While all were still eating, Mendaka asked, “Elmer, may I examine your dogs? They are a breed I have never seen from one end of heaven to the other.”
“I’d be glad to show you, but I should go with yo
u while my people entertain yours. That way the dogs will be set at ease. They are trained not to attack except on command, but you being so very different, they might not know you are of the race of man, yet.”
Coyote asked, “May I go with you? I am very interested in those dogs.”
“Of course, I notice what good care you give to your dogs.”
As they approached the large canines which were secured by a rope line between two stout acacia trees, Coyote said, “Look at the size of those jaws and that deep chest. I’ll bet they can run forever and I pity the animal at the other end of those teeth.”
“Or the man,” Mendaka added, registering his own concern.
“These dogs have never had the occasion to attack a man, but I did have a drunken friend once, who showed up uninvited and, according to my wife, as soon as the dog showed his teeth he ran off like a drillena with an arrow up his butt.”
Coyote stroked the large dog along its glistening, black back, then traced the red eye patches and red muzzle with his fingers. With a gentle smile, he declared, “Dak, it is healing to be in their presence. I can feel their protective spirits. They are a brother to the wolf, but a friend to man.”
“The Chartreuseans made them. They bred them somehow from dogs they called beauceron, but we call them red socks because of their red legs.”
“Are their ears pointed like that or cut?” Mendaka asked.
“We cut them so they are not torn in battle with the drillenas or boars.”
“Drillenas, I don’t know that animal.” Coyote asserted.
Elmer’s face scrunched up. “Nasty bastards is what they be for sure. Some sort of cross between two hell born critters, one be called a mandrill, t’other a hyena. Word come down, down, down from mouth to ear, them damned Chartreuseans made ‘em that way to skir the shit out of us. Have them a laugh like the scream of a banshee. Face of a devil too, with these red and blue markings. Mercy be on anyone who travels alone in these parts. Saw a young man git his leg clean bit off at the ankle in just one bite by the beast. That be how dangerous they be. The dogs keep ‘em away from the holler. Betwixt and between them and the lions, I don’t know which is the worse killer, but the lions are a damn sight easier to kill than them drillenas. I figger no one should pass through these parts, lessen they got themselves some of these here dogs. T’wouldn’t be safe.”
The Bok of Syr Folk Page 15
