The Bok of Syr Folk

by Russ L. Howard

  Blufre’s lodge was far more elaborate than Elmer’s enclosure, or any of the villages they had passed through on their way. The enclosure could almost pass as a fort, for it was of sturdy timbers built.

  Apalala consisted of the lodge in the center of a double semi-circle of hogans facing the big stream to the west. It was the custom of the Blues to always orient to the west just as the Syr Folk always looked to the east.

  The lodge was a grass roofed building, domed, and oblong, with curiously woven panels forming the walls, and made from the fronds of the numerous jubea and butia palms that dotted the entire landscape. Approximately seventy feet from the lodge on the north, east, and south sides were numerous small domed grass huts which the Ceruleans lived in. Then out beyond the main body of hogans were several domed grass huts, built on stilts in the shallows of the Big Stream. Blufre lived in the one that had the smoke rising out the top hole. All the other huts had round boats, bull boats, or coracles over their holes.

  Blufre explained,” I sleep on the Big Stream to catch the cool winds in the summer, but in the winter, to keep warmer, I sleep on the east side in another hut because of the rains that come from the dripping hall above.”

  Mendaka said, “We call that the sky or the heavens.”

  Blufre stopped before his hut as he looked across the river. He pointed across the vast river to the far western bank. “A friend and I were gigging frogs, eels, and fish late at night, when we com-plotted to go to the land of the Chartreuseans and spy on them in the dark of night. We snuck past Long Island up the western bank of the big stream and saw an entire group of greens dancing around a fire in the night. The music was strange and they had very different instruments than we Blues have. Their dancing was light and floaty and circular as they leaped about the fire like gazelle. It was run, run, leap, run, run leap as the men turned one direction and the women turned another. Then three dancers seemed to be telling a story to the rest of the dancers, who stood around and watched until they finished their performance. Then all joined back in the dance once again. I saw no harm in them, but knew I had already violated an ancient law and feeling guilty, we rowed back to our village. Elmer was the friend who accompanied me and we have never returned since. Can’t say why we were possessed to go there that night. But since then, I have felt less threatened by them and it made me wonder if the ancient tales of their ferocity are true at all.”

  Pita glanced over at Mendaka and said, “Keep it our secret.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  Pita said, “Now I’d like you to meet Lewy.”

  “Is that your son?” Mendaka asked.

  Pita laughed, “No, he’s the damned best cock there ever was. Ain’t no other rooster can match him. Ju should see how he rises up in the air and comes down on his opponents. Took that old grey of Mel’s in under a minute. Yeah, there ain’t nobody can take my wheaten.”

  Pita led him out to his rooster yard where the cocks were all tethered. “We got us a pit over yonder, behind them trees so’s some of the women folk won’t be bothered.” He pointed to one of the wheaten roosters and said, “That there is my Lewy.”

  Mendaka was impressed with the stature, stance, and spirit of the cock. “I’ve got a black breasted red cock, I’d like to put against your Lewy some day and I know a couple of greys that would give him a hard go at it.”

  The blufre looked delighted, “Bring him on, Ol’ Lewy’ll send your boy to an early grave or have you sucking blood before the second round.”

  Coyote spoke up, “Pita, if you like cock fighting, as all of us do, you’d surely love a good bull fight.”

  The chief looked intrigued. “Do you have a pit for them?”

  “In a way, but the fighting space is much larger than a cock pit. It’s what we call an arena.” Mendaka watched as Coyote stood out in front of them and theatrically swung his shirt like the cape.

  “You must see the grace and courage of the Espagnol Matadors, the strength and power of their horned bull, and hear the roaring of the crowds. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

  Blufre asked, “Ju think this here bullfighting could be done with the Red Wattle Hogs we got? The boars can be a mighty fierce lot, you know.”

  “No way in hell. A boar would be too smart for this game,” Coyote said. “There is no comparison.”

  “Then you are going to have to get us one of these bulls and show us how to fight them. Sounds right exciting. Does the matador ever wrestle the bull?”

  “Rarely, although I have seen one or two grab the horns and twist the head of the bull in a tight pinch,” Coyote said. “I’ve even seen the bull break outta the arena into the audience, people running everywhere and several ran through with horns, trampled, and gored.”

  “Damned if that don’t sound mighty fun,” Elmer said. The other Blue Men all appeared as deeply enthused.

  As they stood by the tables on the river bank and talked, Mendaka noticed how Blufre was sizing up Herman. Finally, Blufre couldn’t resist the challenge any longer. “Big Fellow, how about an arm wrestling match wif me?”

  Herman looked to Mendaka for permission. “Go for it!” Mendaka signed.

  Pita strutted over and sat at the table. “I be warnin you. ain’t no one ever beat me before.”

  Herman sat down and grabbed Blufre’s hand. The startled look in the Blue Man’s eyes told Mendaka, Blufre had bit off more than he could chew.

  Blufre cried out, “Da-amn, by Zeke Almighty, grabbin this fellow’s hand is just like grabbin the hind leg of a zebra.”

  In the twinkling of an eye Herman defeated Blufre like a man would a child.

  But Blufre took it all in good humor. “I ain’t never met a man of this strength in my entire life. I be liken you, Herman Kettle Maker. How old is you?”

  Herman gave his gentle smile. “I be thirty and three winters.”

  “Well, I’ll be hog happy, you don’t look to be four and ten winters in your face,” Blufre said. “How can you be so strong and still look like a youngin?”

  Govannon chimed in, “It’s because the boy is a steel driven man. That’s where he gets his strength.”

  Coyote grinned, “He went easy on you Blufre. I watched him wrench the arm off of a wyrm-kat. Pulled it clean off its body.”

  Blufre grinned. “Me, I can’t even tear the leg off a coyote.”

  The Blues sat in silent awe of Herman’s strength. They revered strength the way the Herewardi revered intelligence.

  Elmer explained, “We ain’t ever seen anyone match Blufre in a wrestling match.”

  Blufre leaned in closer. “Tell me, ‘xactly what is a kettle?”

  Herman said, “It is like your large cooking crocks there, only it is made out of a metal called iron, similar to the stuff our swords are made out of. I make them on the forge.”

  Elmer asked, “What is a forge?”

  “It’s difficult to explain, but if thou art of a mind to see one, I have brought a portable one with me on my mule. I can show thee one of my kettles, and perhaps Govannon can build a forge here and show thee how to use it.”

  Mendaka smiled to himself. This day had been one of the most interesting he had spent since they left Godeselle. He would count it a success.

  * * *

  Elijah’s Log: It’s May Eve, 585 HSO. Mendaka chose me, Govannon, Coyote, and Herman to accompany him to dinner with the blufre, Elmer, and a contingency of four warriors. The conversation was easy with lots of tales exchanged. We soon learned that Blufre’s power is both hereditary and earned. After carefully observing the interaction of the Blues and their chief, I deduced that he was well-respected and very well liked in a familial sense. Dinner was served by beautiful barefoot blue maidens in flaxen garb. Blufre explained that the guard posted outside the door of the lodge was customary. A tradition passed down from their ancestors.

  We sat around a large round table made of bamboo with a woven grass top. As soon as we were seated, the maidens placed stea
ming dishes before us. We had been living off hard tack and jerky, some kills, and an occasional bowl of oats, but this lard fried meat was unbeatable. We all ate heartily, and the comestibles were some of the best I’ve ever had. At a signal from Blufre, the maidens removed the bowls and our plates. Then to my surprise, the maidens returned, parading a delicious dinner of venison or antelope, roasted ears of corn, beans, squash and the powerful onion or leek the Herewardi called hramsa, but the Blues call ‘ramps.’ In addition we were served tea, either mint or ginseng or ‘sang’ as they call it. For dessert, we were offered exotic fruits they call ‘paw paw,’ and green fruited ‘lizard pear,’ pineapple, and hominy with some delicious greens called ‘poke sallet,’ followed with a sweet smelling drink they expressed from palm nuts. The wine was quite tasty, reminding me of black raspberry jelly and grape wine mixed. It was also extremely potent, as I began to feel quite warm and tipsy after only a few sips.

  After some discussion of what Mendaka would like to see and do here in the Blue lands, Pita Blufre stood up from the table and granted him permission to travel from village to village and all throughout his land exploring and mapmaking. As he put it, ‘Till the hogs stop eatin.’

  Chapter 12 : Xelph Caught in the Twisted Briars of Love

  Long Swan’s Log : It is the Holy Days of May, the second day of the Moonth of Albispiene, 585 HSO. This morning we were very hospitably welcomed into the Mushroom Hall of the Arym Gaeleans, who introduced us to exotic foods, strange smoke that made Xelph ‘allucinate’, as the Aber Gaeleans say it. We also observed an ancient art form they do with their trees, making small trees appear like ancient trees in a pan with moss that appeared like grass growing at their feet.

  Xelph then invited Chief Eyf, along with the sages and sisters, into our camp on the Aber Gael River where we showed them our pack mules and hounds. They were especially intrigued with our weapons. Apparently they have no knowledge of metal and called it ‘singing rocks.’

  Once again, Arundel brought up the subject of the Ele-Anoreans and the Witch Queen of the crater. He seems to have an obsession with meeting the queen. I have to suspect that he’s being driven by the ur fyr, to what end, I know not. I can only trust that the Norn sisters are preparing him to glean some benefit for the Syr Folk. Another observation is that Ilkchild seems unusually flirtatious with the young maidens who flock to him like birds to a feeder.

  We have been invited for an evening of entertainment in the Mushroom Hall this evening and Ary was told that he could likely meet the Ele-Anorean ambassador there. His excitement is so great that he scarcely ate his evening meal. I caught him watching the stations of the sun in sheer anticipation.

  * * *

  At the appointed time, Ary, Xelph, and a small contingency of Syr Folk entered the Mushroom Hall. It had been transformed with wicker panels that were not there earlier. It was dimly and pleasantly lit. The floor mats were configured differently so that everyone faced the panels. As soon as Eyf spotted them, he came over to greet them in his customary, affable manner.

  Eyf declared, “As I mentioned the Ele-Anorean ambassadors are in attendance. I would be pleased to introduce you to them. Their lead Ambassador, Mack-Ka, is as eager to meet you as you are him.”

  The four ambassadors sat apart from the others and were attired in colorful chartreuse robes, the interior of which were periwinkle. Their skin was the same hue as any white, and Mack-Ka’s head was shaven except for a royal lock at his right temple. Except for their attire and royal lock, they could have easily passed for Herewardi or Hickoryans.

  Chief Eyf introduced the ambassadors in a reverent tone and particularly showed deference for their high priest, Mack-Ka, who was the only one with a high collar on his robe, trimmed in silver. Seated on the mats behind the high priest and ambassadors were other Ele-Anoreans, both male and female, Chief Eyf introduced them as the Illuloika which he explained was some sort of royal priesthood.

  Mack-Ka put forth his hand to Xelph, who had been identified as the expedition leader by Chief Eyf.

  “It is a marvelous occurrence and a wonder to discover another people inhabit this isle. I am here in behalf of our blessed queen, who bids me wish you her blessing and has charged me to discover what manner of people you be and whether your intent be for good or evil and whether you are profane or not.”

  Xelph stood tall. “I can assure you, we wish you no ill and our mission is to make peace with all tribes in hopes of exchanging resources with one another. As far as being profane, I think you will find all three tribes which compose the Syr Folk have very strong sacral beliefs.”

  Ary felt emboldened. “We are particularly interested in meeting with your queen. I wish to extend the greetings and blessings of the high lord of our land, Godeselle, in the hopes of establishing relations between the two royal families.”

  Mack-Ka said, “And under what authority do you speak for this high lord?”

  “By reason of being his firstborn.”

  Mack-Ka’s eyes brightened. “I see, I will submit your petition to the queen, but I make no promise. She holds her own mind on all matters, and it’s not for me to question.”

  Ary thanked him, and hope surged in his soul. The Ur Fyr bore witness that he had made the proper connection with this Mack-Ka, as he was sure the Norns had intended.

  Eyf declared, “Once again, I am delighted to have the Illuloika come to Arym Gael. Please let us know any of your needs.”

  At a nod from Mack-Ka, Chief Eyf moved them along to a group of coarser looking people he called the Eng-Nessians and their chief, Ashim-Ba. They were the same green color, like unto the Arym Gaeleans, and also dressed in the same skimpy attire as the Arym Gaeleans with the exception that they wore black bandanas on their heads and jewelry on their necks and wrists made from shells. Other than the color of their skin and attire, the Eng-Nesseans looked very different than either Chief Eyf’s people or Mack-Ka’s. They had broader skulls, coarser features and all of them had a different bone structure.

  Chief Eyf indicated that the Syr Folk were to sit in the honored position with the sages and sisters between the chief, and the Ele-Anoreans. As Ary seated himself between Xelph and Long Swan, he soon discerned that Mack-Ka was assessing him with an unreadable expression. It occurred to him then, that he may have broken protocol by speaking up.

  Once as many Chartreuseans as possible had crowded into the wicker hall, the doors were closed.

  Xelph turned to Chief Eyf. “I am sorry that any of your people are excluded from this event.”

  Chief Eyf said, “It is no great matter. There will be more showings of this performance.”

  Chief Eyf clapped his hands together and a wave of expectation flowed over the assemblage. All at once the intricately woven palm frond screens were folded back by two young men. Standing before them was a tall lithe Chartreusean maiden, blond of hair and green of skin. The musicians began to play with strange stringed instruments, and one musician had a large bamboo tube which he both blew into and sucked out of, making the deepest of sounds which shook the innards of a man. Someone else played an instrument fashioned of a large gourd at the bottom with a long stiff neck and strings running along it up to some pegs.

  Long Swan whispered to Ary, “Looks like a sitar, but much more insect like sounds.”

  The dancer was a young girl about Brekka’s age. She had a red crisscross top covering her breasts, her bare midriff was green, and from the hips down she wore a red, see through muslin sarong over some kind of red under-garment that reminded him of a fitted loin cloth. Behind her was a burning torch affixed to a beam in the background. She began to move and her motions were as a slow liquid flame.

  Arundel’s eyes filled with excitement.

  Xelph leaned close to whisper, “I have the feeling I am looking into the very fire of creation.”

  Ary could see that this was a deeply spiritual experience for his friend. Long Swan, on the other hand, was also totally enraptured. She was the first girl Long
Swan had taken an interest in since Faehunig. She was an exquisitely beautiful woman in a very stimulating way.

  A few minutes later Xelph leaned forward slightly toward Long Swan who was seated on Ary’s other side and said, “Make sure you record every detail of these happenings, Goose.” A name Long Swan’s childhood friends all called him in his youth by reason of his constant scribbling with a goose quill.

  “You need not worry, Leaf Picker, I’m all quills,” Long Swan whispered back. “And I resent being told to do something of which I am the unexcelled master.”

  Xelph wrinkled his nose and made a face at Long Swan who responded with a teasing grin.

  From behind another set of wicker work screens was heard another lilting feminine voice narrating the tale, accompanied by the dance and music.

  “This is the story of a beautiful Chartreusean maiden named Ila, who came up out of the sea on a large scallop shell. It is also the story of Ovis, a young shepherd boy who often rested himself on a rock by the sea to allow his flocks to feed on the kelp that lined the beach at low tide.”

  A handsome young man dressed in a woolen cape and carrying a shepherds crook danced out to a sculptured shell made of sticks and cloth that was dyed pink. The previous dancer in red stood in the shell beckoning him. She blew him a kiss, then intertwined her slender hands in their sign of joining.

  “He was so excited he ran home to share the good news with his parents and his village. Ovis said, ‘By the next moon I will marry me a princess of the deep, who has come to me off the frothy waves of the sea to seek my troth. She is to meet me in a great scallop pink shell by the rising of the next moon.’”