“The father was happy, but the mother did not want the boy, her only son, to go. So she went to the village shaman and said, ‘You must stop my son from marrying the Princess of the Depths.’
“But the shaman said, ‘I will not, for this thing is of the deep, and therefore a gift of the god of the sea’.”
The dancers portraying the father and the shaman exited, leaving only the weeping mother on stage. Suddenly the music took on an eerie scratchy sound, and from off stage came a dark cloaked figure of a twisted man with shell earrings and a black bandana, a reference to the simony of an Eng-Nessean.
“The mother was distraught and then sought out a sorcerer of Eng-Ness, to whom she said, ‘I will give you thirty bags of wool if you will stop my son, Ovis, from going to the depths with the Lady of the Shell’.”
“The sinister sorcerer, Maliforc eben Ashim, declared, ‘Give him three drops of this medicine every morning, and he will lack all interest in seeing the Princess of Depths any more.’
“So the mother dutifully administered the medicine in the son’s porridge and on the appointed day, the boy did not go to the sea. She continued to make payments to the sorcerer while her son, ate, slept, and did his chores as though in a daze.
“Several moons passed and the fishermen started complaining they could not fish any more, as the waters had now become filled with deadly sharks and poisonous serpents. The entire village was fearful that they had angered the God of the Sea, so they all gathered at the house of the shaman and asked, ‘What must we do to take away the wrath of the sea god?’
“The shaman answered, ‘You must listen carefully because that which I require of you will be hard for you to perform.’
“When they promised the shaman they would do anything he asked, he explained, ‘You must capture Maliforc eben Ashim, the sorcerer, bind him securely, and cast him to the sharks. Then take honey that has been made from the gorse and heather of the headlands and give it to Ovis, the shepherd boy, to eat.’
“Although they greatly feared the sorcerer’s power, they did as they were bidden by the shaman, and when they threw Maliforc into the deep, the sharks devoured him in a feeding frenzy, leaving the sea blood red, which then boiled into a black tarry scum over the surface.
After they had given the boy the honey for one moon, he emerged from his daze. Thinking only a day had passed, he ran out to the rocks at the edge of the deep, eager to see his love. But, though he waited all that day, the Princess of the Depths did not appear. He returned every day for a month, neglecting his sheep and chores. Finally, he accepted she was not coming and wept bitter salty tears for her loss.
“One day as he sat on the knees of an aged nyrth tree overlooking his flocks and weeping, the kindly tree spirit took pity on him and advised: ‘My son, to ease your broken heart, go fast and pray for three days in the great wilderness of the Ancestral Nyrth Grove near the Mirror Pool. If this love is meant to be, you will see a sign that shows you what to do.’
“After several days of fasting in the Ancestral Nyrth Grove by the Great Falls of Ele-Anor, his heart became calm and his vision clear. In the moonlight of the third night, as he gazed into the mirror pool at the base of the waterfall, a voice came out of the reflection of the moon saying, ‘I am a dancing liquid flame in your village. Find me.’
The red dancer returned and in seductive liquid motions mimicked the flames of the torch lighting her spot on stage. Long Swan looked on, intrigued.
“Ovis rose up and ran toward his village. On the outskirts of the village he encountered a shepherd girl struggling to uncap a well so that she could draw water for her flock. He had seen her many times before, but knew not her name. Although he was in a hurry to obey the tree spirit’s charge and find his lady love, he found he could not overlook this maiden’s distress and so he took his shepherd’s staff and levered off the well cap. As she thanked him, a liquid flame danced above the crown of her head.”
The young shepherd and the maiden embraced on stage.
“The Princess of the Depths had never left him. He had merely lost the ability to recognize her. They married, had twelve children, and the village was happy forevermore. That was until the next Sorcerer washed upon the beach.”
The music faded into the sounds of the surf as a black cloth vibrated in waves over the stage and two lovers ran away into the dark.
The spectators in the hall erupted into clapping, while the two stagehands quickly unfolded the screens hiding the dancers and musicians from view. Long Swan was absolutely spell bound and intoxicated by both the music and dance. The flame dancer was exquisite in both appearance and performance.
When all were funnelling out of the hall, Xelph asked Chief Eyf if he could stay after and meet the performers of the play.
“Of course you may,” said the chief. “The performers would love to meet you all personally, I am sure.”
Both Xelph and Long Swan were mesmerized. Xelph, noticing Long Swan’s interest, quickly created a buffer between his friend and the woman they both desired.
“Thank you so much for your hospitality, Chief Eyf, but my friends must return to prepare camp for the evening. I fear, only I will be able to stay.”
Ary looked at Xelph and Long Swan, both entranced by the same woman. He smelled a storm brewing. He hoped he was wrong.
* * *
Ary was up with the Morning Star, anticipating the tour the Arym Gaeleans had promised. The morning sun came with a company of Chartreusean youth bearing baskets of fresh fruits, many of which were not recognizable to the Syr Folk. Xelph took one of each and examined them thoroughly and with great care. Ary joined him, savoring the odors, flavors, colors, and shapes of each exotic fruit. The colorful tubers that were red and yellow, some even blue, had an exquisite nut-like flavor somewhere between a pecan and an artichoke. He found he liked some better than others, just like Swan Hilde’s potatoes at home.
In answer to Xelph’s eager questions, Yorel explained, “Some of these grow on trees, some on herbs and others beneath the ground. Is that not the way they grow where you come from?”
“Indeed, indeed,” Xelph said with bright eyes. “By the way, I really enjoyed the entertainment last night. Can you tell me more of this lady, Ysys-Ka, you know, the flame dancer? I spent the most magical evening with her last night.”
Siwel grinned, “You mean my sister. Is she not beautiful and talented? But as I mentioned before, many of our people avoid her company because they claim she has fallen under the spell of the Bee Generatrix. While we dress so as to be neither naked nor fully clad so that we can feel the currents of nature flowing better, the Ele-Anoreans, on the other hand, are very much interested in dressing in fine cloth, as you must have noticed last night. We figure if God wanted us to wear all those colors he would have given us feathers.” Apparently catching himself he said, “But as you wear colorful clothing as well, perhaps your God is similar to that of the Ele-Anorean god. Ysys has adopted that same custom. She claims that dressing, as she puts it, with great taste and attention to detail, elevates a man and is far more pleasing to the eye of God than the bland clothes we wear.” He snorted. “And I might add pleasing to her as well.”
Xelph reflected for a moment. “Perhaps I should put on my best clothing when attending events of state. After all, as expedition leader, I want to make a good impression.”
Ary laughed, “But Xelph, in all the years I’ve known you, you have never cared what you wore. I can’t even get you to dress up for tournament. Me thinks Ysys truly is a flame, and you have become a moth; that you now want colored wings to flutter and flash.”
Xelph deflected. “In tournament I was only representing myself. Now I must represent the Syr Folk. Speaking of which, I really should see if it is possible to meet with the Ele-Anorean ambassador. What was his name, again?”
“Mack-Ka,” Siwel said, “The high priest of Ele-Anor and head of the Illuloika.”
Yorel warned, “Well, you had better hurry, because
I think he has plans to leave soon.”
“Oh!” Xelph exclaimed, “And is your sister planning on going back with him?”
“I don’t know. She did seem very interested in learning as much as she could about you people.”
Long Swan, who had just joined them exchanged looks with Ary, prompting Ary to say, “Long Swan, since you are the lore master, you are the most logical one to relate our history to the chief’s daughter.”
Xelph frowned, “Long Swan is too busy chronicling all the details and bringing them up to date. As the leader, I shall go meet with Yorel’s sister in an attempt to get access to Mack-Ka.”
Xelph motioned for Ary to step aside and whispered, “I want to meet this girl and I don’t want Long Swan there. Keep him busy here for me.”
Before Ary could give answer, Xelph hurried off to the tent and Long Swan said, “He told you to get rid of me by keeping me occupied, didn’t he?”
Ary gave his fa bro a knowing look. “Methinks Xelph is perhaps not the only one smitten.”
Long Swan frowned. “You heard Commander Xelph, I have far too many duties to execute. Besides I’ve resigned myself to not ever getting entangled with a woman again.”
As Xelph exited the tent, dressed in his finest red uniform with his normally tussled hair neatly combed and braided, some of the young bloods whistled and howled and others were mockingly combing their hair.
Xelph shot them an angry glance. “Jackie Doo take command until I return. I’m going to meet with Mack-Ka.”
As Xelph hurried up the path toward the village, Yellow Horse broke into a ditty: “Xelph went a courtin’. He did ride. Uh huh. Xelph went a courtin’. He did ride. Uh huh.” The young bloods choked with laughter and even Yorel and Siwel joined in. On the other hand Long Swan seemed irked.
Xelph shouted back over his shoulder, “Childish bastards!”
When Xelph was no longer in sight, Long Swan turned to Yorel and Siwel. “Do you have time to show Arundel and me your gardens and livestock that I may catalogue them?”
Yorel motioned for them to follow, then responded, “Father has released us from our duties and has instructed us to show you every hospitality. He was pleased with meeting you and feels we have much to learn from one another.”
Siwell added, “Yes, he said he was pleased that you showed such great curiosity in our ways.”
Yorel smiled, “I think to pique your curiosity we will start with the sun-tato and the redtonga plantations.”
“Whichever is closer,” Ary said.
Yorel shrugged, “They are both just beyond the strangler figs over there.”
As they set off under the towering figs, Ary realized that the mornings were much warmer than in the north, and that he did not require his cape, even in the dappled shade of the figs. The air was balmy and smelled of summer’s sweet essence. Song birds abounded on practically every branch overhead.
A cracking sound from above caught Ary’s attention, just as a small branch struck the ground near him. Looking up quickly, he spotted one of the dwarfs that they had initially encountered on their march, he said, “Siwel, where did the dwarves come from? I didn’t see any in your village.”
Siwel looked puzzled, “What are dwarves?”
“You surely know, the ones that are hairy and howl in the night like that one walking on the fig branch, up there.”
Siwel glanced upward, “Oh, those are called howler monkeys. One of the many animals our forefathers studied. In the beginning we Chartreuseans kept many different plants and animals. Our forefathers made plants that generally require warmth become capable of living in cold by altering their seed code. And topsy turvy, they were capable of making new plants and new animals by combining different seed codes with them. It is told they were even trying to make new kinds of men, but as the legend goes most ended up as horrible monsters. Our grandfathers rejected the ways of their fathers and learned that making monstrosities was a mistake and so we have eschewed that practice altogether.”
Long Swan looked up from taking notes. “So, those monsters, are they what you call the Blue Men?”
“No, the Blue Men already existed before they altered seed codes,” Yorel explained as he took the right fork where the path divided. “You must understand that the Ceruleans lived in what they called clans and were less developed than we were. Some of our ancestors were sent out to the far reaches to collect plant and animal specimens to make study of anything with unusual seed codes. In this manner, we imported the Blue People. They were discovered in a place of many hidden areas, a place they called Kain-Tuck. In one of the villages they encountered a curious people with naturally occurring blue skin and brought them here. Over the years our perfectors continued to collect them and to concentrate their blood so as to fix the blue seed in them. We called them Ceruleans in turn. In a few generations all their offspring were only blue.”
As they turned by a giant kauri tree, Long Swan asked, “You said the Ceruleans rose up and demanded independence. What caused them to want freedom and to split off from you?”
Siwel answered. “When we were little, we were taught by the sages that when the earth changes came and this land we are on now came loose from the greater land and slid far into the deep, it caused total collapse of the first people. This was then followed by the burning stars which caused all the villages to burn and with them all order vanished. Animals of all sorts escaped from their compounds and roamed about searching for food. Once freed from the compounds in which they had lived, they soon established the order of nature they were accustomed to. At that time both the Chartreuseans and the Ceruleans were unequipped to deal with their ravenous natures.
“Once the Ceruleans learned that they too were part of the experiments, and determined we had treated them as animals, they called us demons and enemies with evil designs. They rose up against us as if we were the cause of their afflictions. Our ancestors were already dealing with the continual earth shakings, the heavens were on fire, and the great mountains of ice from the seas were crashing on our shores and so they determined they had no time for fighting or negotiating.”
Yorel held back a citrus branch for everyone to pass under and said, “So that’s why they made a pact with the Ceruleans which stated that the Blues would live across the River Aber Gael and we wouldn’t go there, just as they agreed they wouldn’t come here.”
When they arrived on a small rise, Siwel pointed out, “Here are our gardens. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
Spread out before them were neatly grouped multi-colored crops of varying heights. One entire section had long rows of a red shrub bearing saffron yellow flowers and clusters of deep blue fruits.
Yorel pointed to them and said, “Those are redtonga plants.”
Long Swan said, “May I examine them closer and take some leaf specimens for Xelph?”
“Yes, feel free to take as many as you wish.”
As they drew near to the end of one of the roads, a torrent of wings hit the air, startling them. Yorel said, “Budgies. They love the grass seed that we plant beneath the shrubs.”
“By Yster,” Long Swan said, “I’ve seen this plant before, but not even Xelph, who is skilled in wyrt-cunning, could identify it. The closest he could come was to compare it to a plant we call camellia. But camellias, which are beautiful in and of themselves produce little more than tea from their leaves and only a few produce a goodly oil.”
Siwell broke off several leaves and handed them to Long Swan, rubbed one between his thumb and fore finger. “The leaves appear to be much the same,” he mused, “but these leaves are even thicker and fleshier than camellia.”
He passed the leaves to Ary who sniffed its tea-like aroma.
“This is one of our favorite crops,” Yorel declared, “the fruit is not only delicious, it is also a powerful healer. Since the dawn of our civilization, our sages have sought the endu fruit from which the elixir of life is made, but still to no avail.”
“What did you say
this plant is called again,” Long Swan asked, with his pencil poised above his journal.
“It is called redtongayellowbloomablufrutta.”
“Whoa!” Long Swan frantically attempted to spell out the name and write descriptions. “Say that slower, if you please.”
As Yorel complied, Long Swan carefully spelled out the name.
Siwel added, “If it’s any easier we usually just say redtonga.”
After Long Swan had chronicled a detailed description of the redtonga, read it back, and corrected a few errors, he put his journal back in his satchel, the Chartreusean lads led them to another large field containing waist high plants that resembled sunflowers, but with much larger bloom and thicker stalk.
“Aha!” Ary exclaimed, “Now these are sunflowers, I can recognize those.”
“Well, we call them, ‘the sun-tato’. They are part sunflower and part potato.”
As Ary examined it, he described it in detail, so Long Swan could get out his paper and write again, “Its flower is four hands breadth in width and its seeds are the size of a man’s thumb.” He then turned to Yorel and said, “We usually roast the seeds. How do you eat them?”
“We eat the seeds raw.” Siwel grabbed one of the plants and pulled it up by the roots, “But we also eat the tubers here along the roots. You had some last night, sliced and roasted.”
Ary said, “Those were delicious, but I thought I was eating a very flavorful sun-choke.” He lifted the leaves. “This bed is loaded and chocked with mushrooms.”
Yorel squatted down to dig into the fluffy soil with his hands. After a moment he pulled out a large vermillion colored worm, as thick as a man’s wrist and about four foot long. “This is what we call a tiller worm.”
After Long Swan examined it, he made notes, and then placed it gently back into the humus bed.
Siwel then led them to a bed of shepherd’s purse, where he reached under some mulch and pulled out a four foot long Prussian blue earthworm coated with blue luminous mucin. “Both these worms work the soil and we use their mucin for treating skin diseases.”
The Bok of Syr Folk Page 19
