The Bok of Syr Folk

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The Bok of Syr Folk Page 21

by Russ L. Howard


  They walked into the thatch roofed barn to row after row of wicker cages of various types of rabbits.

  Ary passed cage after cage. When he came to a cage of lumi-bunnies he stopped to examine them closely. “I see they don’t glow as much in the daylight, but their blue eyes are captivating, almost human. Perhaps, Yorel, we could strike some sort of bargain for these various rabbits. I have a host of siblings that would absolutely adore them. Perhaps we can trade. I would love to take them such a gift.”

  “You can have a breeding pair of each. Consider it a token of Chartreusean friendship.”

  Xelph exclaimed, “Get a look at these very sleek mahogany colored ones, Ary. I know Brekka would love this color. She loves everything red.”

  “And Mother Ahy, too. And wouldn’t Elwod go crazy over those giants.”

  Long Swan leaned closer to the cage of mahogany rabbits, “It has the appearance of a hare.”

  Siwel explained, “You’re right, we call it an Arym hare, but in fact it is a rabbit, because it’s born with its eyes closed.”

  He led them farther along the row where a cage of fat little chipmunk-like creatures made squeaky little sounds. To Ary they looked like rabbits without ears.

  “These are called cavies, they barbeque quite nicely.”

  As they exited the barn on the opposite side, Ary noticed large flitter mice the size of foxes hanging from a nearby baobab tree. It appeared that the Chartreuseans had collected their manure in piles for the garden. Unexpectedly, a flock of chickens standing three feet tall, with blue lacing over red feathering crossed their path.

  “Holy Albespiene!” Xelph exclaimed, “Monster chickens!”

  Yorel laughed at their surprise, “We call them chooks. They lay brick-red eggs.” Yorel took a detour and under a nearby bush in an indention was a nest full of eggs to examine.

  Ary was utterly fascinated. He thought of asking for a pair of these, but did not want to seem too greedy. “What color are the yolks?”

  Noticing Ary’s fascination, Yorel took an egg from the nest and handed it to him. “This is the color of the sun when it is setting. What we call yorange.”

  “A three foot rooster!” Xelph exclaimed, staring at the strutting cock, who eyed him suspiciously with its reptilian like eye. “Do you ever have cock-fights with them?” Xelph inquired.

  “Funny you should ask. Just last week, Ilius was fishing and had dropped a net near the Cerulean side of the river, he witnessed the Cerulean’s having just two cock’s fighting in a rink along the river. The men who were watching were shouting and cheering. One of the men reached in and picked up a limp white rooster covered in blood and just tossed it in the river like a bloody rag. But we don’t fight ours. They are too valuable. In the past we have had roosters fight to the death over pullets. Because that seems too violent and wasteful to us, we only allow one rooster per flock.”

  Ary glanced at Long Swan. “Not altogether unlike men, fighting over a beautiful woman, aye.”

  Long Swan shot him a warning look. “Enough of that, bro son, my patience is not unlimited.”

  Xelph said, “Take heed Ary you have never seen Long Swan in a temper, but I have. The lore master can turn from a scholar into the fiercest of warriors in a trice.”

  Finally, after much note-taking and sample collecting, they returned to their base camp about the fourth hour after high noon and napped. The young bloods had done an excellent job of laying out the new base camp at the end of the peninsula facing the mouth of the Lir Delta, giving them a very wide view of the delta and the deep beyond. From here they would be able to spot a sailing vessel hours before it could strike land. The river was on one side of the command tent, and the estuary with tall reeds and grasses on the other, reminding Ary of the marshlands where they slew the grass beast at the north end of the isle. Across the river they could see a large tree covered island that jutted up above the river on huge granite cliffs. Behind this was the land of Cerulea which looked like the mirror image of the land of Chartreusea. To the northwest towered the distant crater of Ele-Anor-Ness.

  Ary turned to Yorel. “How long do you think it will take to get an answer from the Crater’s ambassador?”

  Yorel frowned, “Oh, Arundel, methinks from observing you, that your people do everything by a schedule and tend to fill every minute of the day with doing something. We Chartreuseans let things happen at their own pace. The Queen of Ele-Anor-Ness will wait for the proper alignment of events before she considers inviting you to her Nest. That could be the rise of the Dog Star or several moons hence, or not at all.”

  Ary hid his disappointment behind a smile. “Since you mentioned it, I think I’m going to fill several hours with a nap.”

  * * *

  Ary was deep in a dream. He was walking through a paradisaical landscape when he came upon a pond. To his horror he spotted Ilkchild face down, his golden hair floating about him. Ary lept into the water and swam as fast as he could to his drowning friend when he was jerked awake by the blaring sound of Elf Beard’s hunter’s horn. Disoriented, he sat up so quickly his head spun. “Dammit, Elf Beard,” he called through the door of the pfalz tent, “We better be under attack.”

  The old huntsman gave an oaken laugh. “We just might be.That willowy, blond woman in the red dress, that dancing gal that got the young blood’s sap flowing yesterday, is back. Just thought you boys would like to know.”

  Xelph jumped up, straightened his hair, brushed off his clothes, and rushed out ahead of the others. Scrambling to their feet Ary and Long Swan exchanged looks. Ary declared, “I’ve never seen Xelph move so fast.”

  Long Swan rose, looked in the mirror as he placed his hair claw over his braids. “We best get out there before Xelph destroys all the good will we’ve built up with the Chartreuseans.”

  Without waiting for Ary, he exited the tent. Ary followed and said to Elf Beard in passing, “I fear the storm I predicted is about to turn into a full blown cyclone. Brace yourself!”

  When Xelph reached her side, Ysys-Ka broke off what she was saying to two of the young bloods practicing staves. Xelph bowed and said, “Lady Ysys-Ka, I went into the village yesterday to meet you and tell you what a marvelous performance you put on.”

  “Thank you Xelph. That is most kind of you to notice. Father was telling us about your response to the sage smoke. He guessed it was your first time and said you were interested in seeing what plant it comes from. He asked me to tell you, that that can be arranged.”

  “I have some time now. I’d be most happy if you could show me.”

  Ysys-Ka started to respond. “Perhaps another day, I--,” she broke off, her serious look transformed into a dazzling smile directed at Long Swan who was heading her way. “As I was saying, perhaps another day, right now I have come to ask Long Swan to take a stroll through the orchards with me.”

  “Great, why don’t I accompany you? There’s nothing I’d love more.”

  “Some other time, my friend, after the discussion I had yesterday with Long Swan, I have quite a few questions to ask him and I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

  Xelph scowled and his face turned beet red.

  “I certainly don’t wish to intrude. And yes, I do have a lot of work to do.” Xelph bowed stiffly, turned on his heels and walked awkwardly back to the pfalz tent.

  Elf Beard shot Ary a look. “I think you might be right about that cyclone,” he muttered before walking off to join the boys hammering at the staves.

  Long Swan had stopped when Xelph furiously passed by him waited for Ary to catch up and then said in a low voice, “See if you can smooth this over. I think Xelph feels betrayed.”

  Ary let his mouth fall. “Are you serious? You’ve just dropped a knot of snakes in my lap and expect me to unravel them without getting bitten. No thank you. You three will have to iron this out by yourselves. I’m staying out of this.”

  When Long Swan reached Ysys-Ka, he took her by the hand. “I’d be delighted to tour t
he orchards with you, Ysys-Ka.”

  She turned her neck, “Did I say something wrong? Your friend seems angry.”

  “No, nothing. Xelph is just having a bad day.”

  “What is the meaning of a bad day?”

  “A day when nothing happens the way you had planned it. Nothing goes right.”

  “Are all of you having a bad day?”

  He smiled, “Not me, in fact, my day just got a whole lot better.”

  When she looked confused, he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and said, “I’m just delighted to tour the orchards with you, Ysys, I’ve been writing most of the days and I should very much enjoy a stroll with a lovely lady to make it all the better.”

  As he escorted her past Ary, he said, “Please, Ary, for me.”

  Ary nodded. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anything.”

  As he watched Long Swan and Ysys walking away, they appeared totally oblivious to their surroundings. The two mirrored each other’s movements. Ysys’ distinctive swaying walk would have been stirring to any healthy male. Ary shook himself bak to reality.

  Indeed, Ysys was so alluring that Ary found himself singing Herewardi psalms to put her out of his head. Then bracing his shoulders, he turned and entered the tent. He saw Xelph rustling through some plant specimens frantically, looking like a furnace glowing hot and ready to melt down. His face reminded Ary of a sheep kidney he once saw on a fire that began to hiss and whistle before it exploded into a big mess splattering those around the campfire with white hot bits.

  As soon as Xelph saw him he said through gritted teeth and with red rage, “So, are you on Long Swan’s side, or mine?”

  “Xelph, by Almighty Tyr, the last thing I want to do is take sides. That would affect the harmony of our expedition in ungodly ways.You heard Sur Sceaf, this mission is vital for the security and success of the Syr Folk. All of us, including you and Long Swan should keep Mission Goal first and foremost in your minds. I know that you have developed an interest in the Lady Ysys-Ka, and that is your personal business, but you and Long Swan have been as close as brothers since you were fuzz heads in school. Brotherly love is a sacred bond and obligation of Herewardi society. I would advise you to think carefully before you do something to destroy that sacred and holy bond.”

  Chapter 13 : Long Swan’s Struggle

  After the conversation with Ary, Xelph stormed out and headed directly past the hedges, through the tall grass and eventually disappeared into the trees just beyond. The day was heading into twilight when he returned almost two hours later. He was quiet and sullen, but Ary gauged he had at least calmed down enough to be in the presence of others. All the same, he decided it would be prudent to avoid conversation for fear of triggering an angry response again.

  But as Ary wrote in his journal, he became increasingly aware that Xelph’s calmness was simply a veneer. As he usually did at this time of day, Xelph sorted through the herb specimens, but instead of exercising his usual care with the leaves and blossoms, he slammed them into his plant press. His nostrils fared, he postured like a bull. His jaw muscles rippled, and he exhaled loudly. No, Xelph was not calm, in fact, his simmering anger was close to boiling over. Ary debated whether or not to make another attempt at diffusing the situation as he’d promised Long Swan, but decided anything he said now would only make matters worse.

  Suddenly, Xelph got up from his work table and began pacing like a caged animal, all the while pretending to review plant notes. While he was gone, Ary had hoped Xelph would have logically worked this out in his head before Long Swan returned, but he knew Xelph was not usually logical, only passionate, and this time he was passionately enraged. This was a situation that could not be endured in the leader of their expedition and he suspected Crooked Jack might be forced to supercede him as expedition leader.

  When Long Swan finally returned to the tent, he had no sooner stepped inside than Xelph dropped his papers and charged, pushing Long Swan back against the tent wall and grabbing him by the shirt. “You son of a Pitter,” he spat out, “that is my woman you are trying to weasel in on. I thought you were my friend?”

  Although Long Swan’s eyes glittered with anger, his voice remained calm. “I am sorry Xelph. I am not only your friend, but hold a brotherly affection for you. It has never been my intention to do you harm, but sometimes love comes when we least expect it. Perhaps the Norn sisters have woven my life with Ysys, but it is Ysys choice whether or not it shall be so. Not yours!”

  “What if I convince her that I am the better man. Will you stand down, then?”

  “Of course not, just as I expect you would not stand down if the situation was reversed. Herewardi law stipulates that all is fair during courtship until a bond is sealed through the harrow stone.”

  “To hell with Herewardi Law, we are the Syr Folk now.” Suddenly, he drew back and punched Long Swan in the face. With a furious growl, Long Swan retaliated with a driving blow to Xelph’s midsection causing him to double over.

  Ary demanded, “Cut it out you two.”

  Long Swan said, “You’re right Ary, theres no reason for us to fight like this.” He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “I’m sorry Xelph, to have lost control.” He extended a hand to Xelph, who upon rising plunged a fist into Long Swan’s gut sending him doubling over in a groan. Soon the two collided and rolled to the ground. It was shocking to see these two former friends butting heads like rams in rut, but here they were gripped in combat, throwing punches, grappling and gouging at each other. Kneeing and elbowing. In the heat of the battle the two had forgotten all their training and were simply brawling like school boys. They seemed evenly matched and blood was running from their mouths, eyes and noses.

  Lightning like, the tent door burst open and Elf Beard Old Grokking charged in like a bull wisent. “If you two don’t break this up right now, I am going to turn my dogs on you.” After he broke them apart and held each by the scruff, he demanded, “What in the hell is this matter that brings friends to fists?”

  When neither answered, Elf Beard had them sit at opposite ends of the tent and then sat on a canvas chair in the middle to listen. “Neither of you is getting out of this tent until this is resolved. Now, let’s begin with you, Long Swan tell me what happened and then I want to hear Xelph’s version. The next hour was spent in listening and arguing. Passions were still high and voices often reached the intensity of their emotions. Ary decided this was a volatile side of his fa bro he had no inkling even existed.

  Finally, Elf Beard called a halt. “I’ve heard enough.” He sat silent for a moment before he said, “My dear friend, Xelph, we cannot command love. It flies to the heart that is its nest of choosing. It appears to me, from what you have said, and from what I have observed, the lady Ysys-Ka favors Long Swan. You cannot own a woman’s heart simply by willing it so.” He turned and looked directly at Xelph. “Now, let it be. Now, let it be. Love shall find you in another time and place. I promise.”

  When Xelph didn’t respond, Elf Beard rose. “You two friends shake hands and we will have no more of this or I shall remove you both of your offices.”

  Long Swan came forward immediately, his hand of friendship extended. After a moments hesitation Xelph rose and shook hands dutifully, broke grip quickly, and then without a word left the tent. Elf Beard glanced at Long Swan whose tunic was spotted with blood from the cuts on his face that were still oozing. I’ll send Red Fox in with his medicine bag to mop you up. In the meantime, I recommend a large krug of ale.”

  As soon as Elf Beard departed, Long Swan poured himself a krug of ale and poured one for Ary. After downing the drink in one long chug, he said ruefully, “I have to take my share of responsibility for this. I could have handled it better. You were right, despite everything my reason and common sense told me, I just couldn’t resist her. The allurement was too great.”

  Arundel took a sip. “I must take some responsibility too, you asked me to handle this and clearly I didn’t do a very good
job. Truth told, I really didn’t think Xelph would react the way he did. It seemed that his passion for plants was always more important to him than any woman. He always seemed so good natured, even when we were ribbing him about his interest in Ysys. And who could have known you would awake so quickly to love from your long slumber?”

  Long Swan sat down again. “In all honesty, it took me by as much surprise as it did you. As for Xelph, he is good-humored, most of the time, but I learned when we were lackbeards, if he’s pushed too far, he will explode in a fury every time.” Long Swan paused, took a bandana from his tunic pocket and wiped the blood from the cut over his eye before continuing. “I remember when I first met him. He was like a fat bear cub, I thought him nothing more than a chubby child when he came to Witan Jewell at about ten years of age. He was Sharaka, but had green eyes and blond hair. His family preferred the Herewardi lifestyle, and therefore his father, who ran a mule train from Herewardi village to village, had two wives. They enrolled Xelph in the Junior Academy so that he could be steeped in the Herewardi culture. My friends and I would tease him and call him ‘Fat Bear.’ During playtime we would run and hit him repeatedly like dogs at a bear’s haunches.

  “Well, one day after we had incessantly tormented him, two of my friends and I went into the small art room to work with the clay. No instructor was present. I had just set out my materials when Xelph came charging through the door, much as he did today. He had that same wild look in his eye and his face was just as red. There was only one door and he had slammed it behind him. There was no escape and I knew my friends and I were in big trouble.”

  Long Swan laughed before taking another gulp. “My friends and I kept shoving each other towards him, hoping he would be satisfied with just one of us. But Xelph was determined and pounded all three of us into the floor, not unlike we had pounded the clay moments before. We had an instructor, whom we had nicknamed the Beet, because of his fondness for mead, his red face, and his big head. Well, the instructor was still scraping us off the wall two weeks after that.”

 

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