The Bok of Syr Folk

by Russ L. Howard

  Ysys fear settled as the sound of footsteps told her they were filing off for their tents. Occasionally, she heard the moans of rutting and distant arguing until no human sounds were heard, only the sound of the dogs fighting over meat scraps that someone had carelessly dropped. Had she turned the exciting boy she had known into such a monster. No, she decided. He was flawed from the beginning. She had simply refused to see it at her young age. His thorns and toxins were there to begin with.

  * * *

  It was the day before the joining ceremony. Long Swan awakened earlier than normal, emerging from sleep with an unsettled feeling, he decided to return to sleep. It’s just the wedding jitters, he thought as he glanced at his wedding suit, neatly folded over one of the chair backs.

  Yellow Horse, as his gift to the wedding couple, had insisted on washing his white shirt, freshening his brown leather pants and polishing his boots. Long Swan had learned that Ysys-Ka had a new wedding dress, gifted to her by the queen so he had decided to wear the customary formal attire of the Herewardi gentry, with the addition of the blood red sash indicating he was a member of the royal bloodline. Every descendant of that bloodline was entitled to wear it around their waste, but only those who had achieved acts of great merit were entitled to wear it across the chest. In addition to that, only those of direct descent from Howrus were permitted to wear the golden kings knot upon it.

  After he finally fell back to sleep, All Mother Freya and a company of valkyries attending her came to him speaking through the flames to warn him that he would soon be sifted like barley by an enemy. When he asked her the identity of the enemy in his dream she responded, “One can be fought with steel, but the other of your own making can only be fought in the heart. By trusting and embracing the Ur Fyr, thou canst defeat the inner enemy so that he be consumed to ash. Behold, the enemy of the mould is even now at thy door.”

  He pondered the meaning of the night vision for a while, fell back to sleep and then awoke at false dawn. Even though the sun had just begun its climb, the air felt oppressively warm and sticky humid with a hint of static. To his dismay a rumble of an approaching thunderstorm brewed in the west. Fervently, he prayed the outdoor ceremony would not be interrupted by it. In the uproar of the winnowing, he had forgotten to ask Ysys what the contingencies were in case of unexpected circumstances. Since it was too late now, he would have to trust in the Chartreuseans. Had Surrey’s bride-covey been there they would have anticipated any such problems, organized the feasts, seemingly without effort. He smiled. He could almost see Paloma in her aubergine gown effortlessly directing her troupe with good humor and cheer. He realized how much he wished his family could be here, but at least Ary would be at his side as a representative.

  He turned his head to see that Ary and Ilkchild were still curled tightly in their blankets. Xelph was absent, probably out looking for herbs. For three days now, Xelph had maintained the signal fire going at the tip of the peninsula in the event Turtle Duck arrived early. The young blood fyrd members had packed up all but the barest of necessities in anticipation of loading the ships for their homeward voyage. The distinctive odor of smoldering skunk cabbage leaves told him the fire had just been fed with a new batch of wetted leaves ripe for a smoking signal.

  Long Swan stretched, feeling all his muscles relax. This was going to be a good day, he decided. Not only was he anticipating the joining ceremony, but he was very much looking forward to meeting with Turtle Duck and reuniting with Mendaka’s crews. That is if they had not become prisoners of the fierce Blue Men on the other side of the river.

  Long Swan had finished with his joining instruction. He hoped to obtain at least one pigeon from Turtle Duck to send off news of his marriage. He wished he could be there to witness the reaction of his family and friends when the message arrived that he had finally found a faery-queen. He smiled to himself and thought, What will they say when they see that my beautiful long blond has green skin. He chuckled.

  His smile faded as the earlier feeling of foreboding crept back into his mind once more. Perhaps it had something to do with the ships or mayhap that Blue Men were even worse than the Chartreuseans knew. He desperately wanted to believe this uneasy feeling had nothing to do with his upcoming joining or the dream warnings of the All Mother Freya.

  Tossing off the cover, he retrieved his journal and pen to make his daily entry. Just as he began to write he was interrupted by a commotion outside the tent. Exiting the tent, not bothering to fully dress, he wore only his loin cloth. Ary and Ilkchild quickly sprung up behind him. He was met by Xelph accompanied by Ila, both of whom wore somber expressions.

  “Ila has come with an urgent message from the chief.” Xelph told him quickly. “Ysys-Ka was missing from her hut this morning and her father believes she was abducted in the night. He thinks it was Ashim, but some of the other sages think it was you.”

  “Me? Why would I abduct her? I gave my word. We are to be joined today.”

  “Don’t be offended,” Ila said. “Most of these are the older people who remember the days when Ychstein and his men would capture our maidens and carry them off so that they would not have to pay the bride price.”

  “But, I’ve already paid the agreed upon bride price with the elf blade and one of Herman’s kettles.”

  Ila said, “You must understand that many of our people have fear of outlanders who dress in bewitching clothing and use strange words. You should know that far more among us came to your defense.”

  Ary said, “In my heart I know that Chief Eyf is right. It was Ashim.”

  Ilkchild said, “Oh no! I hope it wasn’t the last minute flight that some people take. I hate to say this, but maybe she had second thoughts and has run off with her former lover after all.”

  Long Swan’s mind traveled to dark places. That thought was far too painful for him to even entertain. Faehunig had run away on their wedding day. He doubted he would survive it if it happened again. This must be what Freya had warned him about.

  As though reading his thoughts Ary stepped closer. “Ysys loves you. She is an honorable woman. She would not leave you willingly. She is not Faehunig and Ashim is certainly no Saxwulf.”

  To Long Swan’s surprise, Xelph wholeheartedly agreed. “I witnessed how she worshipped you with her eyes during the winnowing.” He gripped Long Swan’s arm. “Don’t worry, my brother, we will find your woman for you.”

  Ary, Long Swan, and Ilkchild swiftly got dressed and gathered their weapons. Xelph ordered several of the young bloods to maintain the fire, then went to Elf Beard’s tent to enlist his aid.

  By the time Elf Beard returned with his hounds and Crooked Jack, Ilkchild had gathered a wolf pack of young bloods to accompany them. Long Swan was pacing impatiently. As soon as everyone had gathered in front of the pfalz tent, Xelph explained what was happening and led out.

  Within a few minutes they had arrived at the village, which looked like a teeming marketplace where instead of trading goods, the townsfolk were trading speculations about what had happened to Ysys.

  As soon as someone spotted them the word spread and all conversation ceased. The townsfolk watched in silence as Xelph led them directly to Chief Eyf’s hut. The small garden was crowded by a host of young Arym Gaeleans, some of whom viewed them very suspiciously. The chief, however, looked upon them with eyes of relief. In response to Long Swan’s questioning, he recounted the details of Ashim’s unexpected earlier visit, his demands, and the discovery early this morning that Ysys had gone missing. Perle-Ka pointed out that Ysys’ room was in total disarray, as if there had been a horrible struggle. She was terrified for her daughter’s welfare.

  “Do you have any doubt that it was Ashim that stole her away?” Long Swan asked.

  “I can think of none other,” Eyf said.

  Long Swan glanced at Ilkchild, who shrugged. Long Swan could not blame the young blood for his suspicions, as he too had to now entertain that darker possibility. Taking Perle-Ka’s hands into his, he looked direc
tly into her frightened eyes. “As the Goddess Freya is my witness, I promise we’ll do all we can to locate her and return her home safely.”

  She thanked him with a shaky smile.

  Elf Beard shot a barking command at the dogs. “Best not waste anymore time.” He turned to the chief. “At the winnowing, I noticed that Ashim threw down his loin cloth at your feet. Is there any chance you may still have it? Or that anyone else picked it up? Also I will need a recently worn item of Ysys.”

  Eyf looked puzzled. “I can get her scarf and I hold his loin cloth. It was an insult to my daughter and by Leaf Law Custom, the senior male must force him to take it back. I was waiting till after the joining to confront him. But my question is, is your need for these things so urgent that we must delay the search? The law requires that I have the loin cloth in my possession when I toss it back at his feet.”

  “It is urgent. My dogs will sniff it and be able to lead us directly to him, wherever he hides. And I’ll need the scarf to determine if they both went the same direction.”

  Perle said, “Please. Eyf, it’s the first thing that has given me hope. Give it to him.”

  Long Swan added. “You can trust this to Elf Beard. He will return it to you.”

  Eyf went into the hut, returning moments later with Ashim’s chartreuse loin cloth and Perle-Ka returned with Ysys’ raspberry colored scarf.

  “Do you really think you will be able to find her?” Eyf asked as he handed him the loin cloth. Ashim’s group have a hideout which none of us have ever been able to discover. We know it is in the marshes, but they go on forever and are filled with giant snakes and quick sands. None of our people dare go into there.”

  Elf Beard shook a thick finger, “Mark my words, man. Ashim will be under my hound’s paw before the sun can shine straight down on you today.”

  “A dog.” Eyf glanced over at the five hounds sniffing the ground clearly eager for a hunt, then shook his head. “You think a dog will be able to find my girl? They can’t see her any better than we can.”

  “You have never seen a hound work before. Have you, chief?”

  “No, I have not, but since my daughter’s eternal welfare is at stake, I trust you. I see you have brought some of your young men to assist you, just as I have gathered this group of youth to conduct a search, I propose, we go as one. We’ll need all the eyes we can get.”

  Long Swan saw that Elf Beard was poised to decline the offer and quickly said, “An excellent idea.”

  Elf Beard took in the crude spears that were the only weapons possessed by the Chatreuseans and signalled his disapproval with the raising of his shaggy eyebrows.

  Long Swan realized he needed to put a lid on Old Grokk. “Since the young bloods are trained for such crimes, I merely ask that your young men promise to follow our lead.”

  Eyf turned to survey the boys. “It will be so, will it not.” The boys didn’t look happy, but all nodded in unison.

  Eyf shouted to his boys, “You boys keep your eyes peeled for Ysys. You hear?”

  They nodded.

  Old Grokk said, “It’s not eyes, but nose that shall show us the way.” Then he presented Ashim’s loin cloth to his hound, Pilot. After sniffing eagerly for a few seconds, the tri-colored hound sounded an acknowledgement and let out a distinctive yip. The hound put his nose to the ground, ran over to Ysys hut and followed the hot trail.

  Chapter 16 : The Jaguar, the Flaco, and the Tortuga

  The Jaguar was five days out to sea. Earlier they had passed the great Port of Frisco and now were approaching the massive fog bank that usually gathered off shore from the extensive redwood forest along the northern coast of the Kalifornias, the disputed territory of the Herewardi and the Friscans.

  Despite Standing Bull’s objections, Juan ordered that the female captives were allowed on deck during the day for fresh air and exercise. At this moment the girls were racing around, playing a game of chase, while the sailors scrubbed the deck and lined the ropes on their spools.

  After five days Juan still viewed Standing Bull as a self-inflated bully. Worse, he knew him to be a traitor, the most sinful creature on earth. To betray your own people meant there was no virtue left in your heart. He had seen bulls like this before, big, dumb, domineering, but no finesse or grace and no fight, even when cornered.

  The wind picked up and sent a spray over Juan where he stood on the prow. Two of the ships, the Jaguar and the Flaco, clipped along well, allowing Juan to demonstrate to Standing Bull how quickly they could maneuver. Flaggers in the rigging communicated from ship to ship what they were doing and the direction they were to take. Once the lesson was over, the clippers circled back in the gull filled air to catch up to the lumbering old belly ship, the Tortuga, with its rickety construction and dirty old sails straining to hold its own in the breeze.

  As he stood at the prow of the ship, he turned to address his lieutenant, next to the helmsman, “Signal the Flaco and Tortuga that as soon as the Tortuga enters the fog bank behind us, we will turn sharp to the west.”

  It was his plan to sail due west for four leagues, then swing back southward toward the Isle of Ilkchild’s southernmost tip. It was a tactic he had used before to fool any possible pursuers into believing he intended to sail farther north along the coast of the main land, and all this to mislead them from his true intent. So far the captain of the Tortuga, the trailing ship in the armada had not signaled that he spotted signs that they were being pursued. Juan’s Padre had taught him to always assume your enemies are following you, even if they are not.

  The thick fog swallowed the ships. Most sailors considered the fog an enemy, but Juan had learned how to make it his ally. The pleasant smell of the sea brine filled his nostrils and his face was wet with spindrift. He was wiping his face with his bandana when he sensed someone approaching. Turning quickly, he spotted Standing Bull was coming to engage him.

  “If Sanangrar wants me to be a pirate for him, I’ve got to have a ship like this.”

  Juan tied his bandana back around his neck. “That is impossible. I have my own fleet of thirty of them, but I build for no one else and I sell to no one else. Ju are more likely to be given a ship like the Tortuga there.”

  Standing Bull spat upon the deck, “Never! that ship moves like an old squaw. The Pyringeans would overrun me in a flash.”

  “True, that’s because ships like the Tortuga are like the ones that are Pitter built. They were made for transporting large numbers of soldiers and slaves, but not much more of anything else. The Friscan ships are better built. They do lend themselves to service in mercantile endeavors as well as military maneuvers, but the Friscan ship builders likewise do not sell to anyone but Friscans. The only other way to get a good ship is to pirate it.”

  “Then why did you bring the Tortuga along.”

  Juan allowed himself a small smile. “Bait.”

  “Bait!” Standing Bull frowned. “Bait for what?”

  “At the end of this mission, I have been charged to run the Pyringean blockade. I need their patrol vessels to take after the Tortuga so that I can spring their diekplous and get away. It is that simple.”

  Standing Bull’s eyes bulged, “And do the Mexus aboard the Tortuga know that they are the bait?”

  “Of course not, ju do not tell the rabbit it is bait when ju set a trap for wolves.”

  “A brilliant idea; who cares about a few Mexus peons? What’s the sacrifice of a few to get what you want?”

  “And you. What do you expect to gain by feeding girls to the Pitters?”

  “It shows them that I am loyal enough to even offer my own people for their cause. We are alike, you and I.”

  Juan grew cold at the comparison. “You greatly mistake me, I would never risk innocent lives did I not know the Herewardi do no harm to the Mexus unless they are allied to the Pitters. They have more humanity and dignity than the both of us put together.”

  Jose called out, “El Capitan, it is time to turn to the south.”

&
nbsp; “Have the flagger send the signal. The fog is thinning and soon we will be in sunshine again.

  Jose issued the order. The helmsman spun the wheel. The sails fluttered at the loss of wind, then billowed once again. Turning to aft, Juan watched as the Flaco and then the Tortuga followed in the Jaguar’s wake. As he turned back he caught a flash of red color on the deck below. One of the captives was hiding behind the spools. Since she did not appear to be stressed, he assumed it was part of their game. “Damned shame! I reckon these poor girls are probably doomed to be camp whores for some Pitter zonga someday soon. My God, how they do abuse them.”

  “No,” Standing Bull replied with a leering grin, “Don’t worry about them, these girls are all marked as virgins and will be traded to the Growlings. Most are much too young for camp whores.”

  “What do you mean? I have never known that to stop a Pitter before.”

  Standing Bull turned his back to the wind. “Sanangrar has made it punishable by death for a Pitter to rape a virgin because they have become too valuable in the trade now. The Cha’Kal told me the Growlings insist on trading for virgins. Don’t know why, don’t care why. All I know is the Growlings exchange noogs for them and sometimes technology.”

  Juan felt his lip curl up in disgust. “What do you mean, noogs?”

  “I do not know. I only know that the Cha’Kal and his officers take them often and become filled with energy and seem much easier to deal with when they use them, but become like rabid dogs once they wear off.” Standing Bull gave a disgusted look. “Then once the herbs wear off, they demand more. Too much dreaming herbs and the evil spirits will take over your soul.”

  “Curious,” Juan said stroking his mustache as he studied the young women. “I have seen those who over use the peyote, ignorant weed, and the morning glory. Any of my men who show such signs as using mind poison are no longer to be found in my employ. This is the first I’ve ever heard of Growlings, but I doubt they are a benevolent people if they are allied to the Pitters and one wonders why they want virgins.”