The Bok of Syr Folk

by Russ L. Howard

  Turtle Duck glanced out over the river to watch the landing of the other porter boats. “Oh, they are a friendly enough lot, but very touchy and suspicious. I wonder if you managed to get much of a look at that island over there in the middle of the river. What a beauty! What a convenient port it would make us. Imagine the naval stronghold that would make. Deep fresh water portage, high cliffs, ample timber.”

  Mendaka tilted his head, “I was just discussing that possibility with Blufre. He tells me that the whole Long Island is fertile. He says they harvest wild rice and squirrels there. Best of all, it’s a no man’s land and so it doesn’t belong to either the Chartreuseans or the Ceruleans. He also said if we want to have a presence here in the south that we could build our village there as well. I assume neither of the two tribes would object. I tell you, Turtle Duck, it’s the perfect place for a fortress. Right here in the mouth of this delta. It’s the door to the Suff Lands and we could station ships and dog soldiers here and no one could pass.”

  “Well, it did look very promising. An isle within an isle,” Turtle Duck said. “And it should prove to be a good port indeed with this wide deep channel. But, of course the isle will need farther exploration. And there’s one other consideration. This isle could hold a lot of people, but Surrey wants to use all of the south lands on both sides of the river. Have you actually talked with this Blufre about bringing planters and settlers into his land as was the intent of the council?”

  “Of course that intention was formulated before we knew these lands were inhabited. I know how the Sharaka would feel about strangers coming into their lands to settle without invitation. So I have not approached them about that matter yet. We only skirted the issue because it seemed too imperialistic to say we’re coming to your land to fill it with our settlers.”

  “I get the point, but if they don’t get on board with us against the Pitters they may find a lot worse neighbor moving in, and taking, rather than asking for space.”

  Mendaka glanced up the shoreline as Turtle Duck’s crew began to engage Pita. The exploration crew were helping them out of the porter boats.

  Elijah chimed in, “We Quailor were initially very resistant to the Herewardi taking up residence in our Salem settlements, but it became all too clear, too soon, that we would have never made it without the Herewardi presence. I’ve listened to Blufre talk about how the Chartreuseans abused them many times. We need to convince them that the Pitters will make the Chartreuseans look like benefactors in comparison.”

  Mendaka agreed. “An excellent idea. Meanwhile let’s consider the option of Long Island. Don’t you think an isle within an isle is like the tithe of the tithe that the Herewardi declare to be a sacred thing. As I discussed with Sur Sceaf, the Council of Three Tribes, and the Roufytrof, before my departure, we need to secure all the gates to the Isle of Ilkchild and this would be a very good first step.”

  “Even so, I assure you, whatever you decide, Sur Sceaf will approve. I have never known two friends to think more alike. It is as though you two are of one mind and heart. Which reminds me,” Turtle Duck said, “I have letters from Surrey and your family. They’re missing you.”

  “And I sorely miss them.”

  “Well, the sooner you wrap up things down here, the sooner you may see them.”

  “I discussed the matter with Sur Sceaf before I left Godeselle. We knew that more than likely I would have to stay here. We decided that if the land was suitable, I would settle here with my family. The Roufytrof and Council want the whole island settled by the emigrants coming from the main land of Panygyrus directly to the sun door, so as not to encumber the city of Godeselle. But do me this boon, fetch my family to me the first opportunity you have. I shall have a lot of work ahead of me.”

  “Well, I can spare twenty of my crew to assist you in labors. Surrey has anticipated your need for a large supply of tools to get you started, as well as more weapons and artificers for Govannon to supervise. There is a herd of your horses in the belly of the ship and Habraham has sent you a team of mules for labor. Of course, your son is still aboard ship. He will be coming ashore after he finishes his securing of the ship, like all the other trainees. Surrey has decreed you could use most of Xelph’s young bloods to get started.”

  “Excellent. Just between you and me, how is Redelfis doing in his fyrd training?”

  Turtle Duck smiled. “Well, let’s see. He has a superior rating in his horsemanship, in his marksmanship, and leadership skills, but to be frank, I can’t pass him on seamanship. He’s terrible. Besides, I’ve never seen anyone with worse sea-sickness than he.”

  “Well, sounds like he will be in a land fyrd then. Sur Sceaf just insists that all the new young bloods get some training in seamanship in case we someday need to make attacks at sea. Now to the business at hand,” Mendaka said as they walked over to Blufre.

  Pita turned to acknowledge them. “If you and your men are ready, Mendaka, the folks of Atala have prepared a feast for you. You may invite Turtle Duck and a table full of his crew if you like.”

  * * *

  Mendaka awoke on his blanket looking straight up at Pita, who was staring down at him with staff in hand and Kletus standing nearby. Sitting up, he glanced quickly around the hogan before asking, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  Pita smiled. “Just that ya’ll are sleeping the day away and we’ve got to visit that there winged ship sittin out there.”

  “Sleeping the day away! The sun hasn’t even risen yet.”

  “Well, by the time we get out there it will have.” He pointed with his staff at the light just filtering in from the east.

  Pita lifted a conch shell and gave it one blast. Turtle Duck sat bolt upright. “By the Thunder Beings, what in the Hell was that?”

  “Pita just blew a conch shell. It’s your fault. You promised to show them your ship.”

  Muttering a Cherokee curse, Turtle Duck got up, walked over to Shark-Moon and Bnimin, who managed to sleep through all the commotion. “Wake up boys.” He called, shaking one and then the other. “Time to go.”

  The two boys sat up winking like two little owls, before rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and slowly grabbing their gear.

  “I could have slept another hour as late as we stayed up last night.” Bnimin grumbled. “And I swear, if another Blue grabs my peyos, I’m going to scream.”

  Mendaka smiled down at the boy. “It’s the price of being a stranger in a strange land.” He winked at Bnimin before walking over to greet the arriving Blues.

  Kletus held out a wooden tray with baked breads which were welcomely passed around for breakfast.

  After everyone had grabbed one of the small loaves, Pita said, “Come on, y’all, show us that ship of yourn. Woked up from my first sleep last night and could not close an eye during the second sleep, because all I could think of was that monster duck sitting out there on the river. It’s burning in my mind and I’ve gotta see it, Mendaka.”

  “See it you will.” Turtle Duck laughed. “It ain’t no monster duck sitting out there, Pita. It’s what we call a swan on the ship, not a duck.”

  “Whatever, it looks like a duck to me? Can’t see as if I see no difference; gotta beak, got wings, and floats.”

  When everyone was up and ready, Pita led them along the trail across the swine field where some Atalan youths were tossing out baskets full of mast to their hogs. The swine herders stopped to stare at the strange company tromping through their field. Mendaka smiled and waved as they kept pace with Pita and Kletus. Soon they reached the bank of the river where the porter boats had been beached in a neat line.

  The crewmen who had not attended the feast, but camped on the bank, took their positions at the oars. Mendaka got into the first boat with Pita, Turtle Duck and Kletus. Turtle Duck gave a crisp order and the men began rowing.

  Blufre was fascinated by every aspect of the ship. It was as if he were trying to memorize it. In the months Mendaka had spent with the Blues, Pita, Elmer, and Kle
tus all proved themselves to be intelligent, and not so primitive as they appeared upon their first meeting.

  Once they reached the ship, Turtle Duck climbed the rope net ladder to demonstrate the proper way to enter the ship. Blufre was quick to follow. Once aboard the Overo, Pita eagerly investigated all that he saw. He felt and pondered the ship’s design, running his hand along the railing, over the wheel, and along the mast like a blind man trying to discern an object.

  “Aah! Ain’t seen nothin this good, why these timbers are joined perfectly and every detail looks like it’s polished. We have some mighty fine woodworkin men, ain’t capable of this.” Pita said tracing his fingers along the wooden beams as he glanced up at the sails. “I tells ya, I gotta ride out to sea upon this ship! Be like ridin on the back of a giant duck. Now, I see why you have the duck’s head fastened up there on the front?”

  “It is a swan’s head,” Turtle Duck protested. “I told you it’s not a duck.”

  “And like I told you, it looks like a duck. Ain’t it Kletus?”

  “Sure is duck, but maybe these folks call a duck by another name.”

  Turtle Duck and Mendaka exchanged looks of bemusement.

  “What the Hell, a swan is at least a cousin to the duck. The day is waxing on,” Turtle Duck declared, “we’d better make plans for visiting Xelph, I told him I would return today with word from you.”

  Mendaka turned to Pita, “What about it, Pita? You ready for a boat ride?”

  “Well, it’s like this Mendaka. The fellows and I surely do want to go boating on the Big Duck, only you gotta know, right up front the soles of our feet aren’t fixin to touch Chartreusean land if that be your intent.”

  Mendaka pondered then suggested, “I have an idea. How about you and the Chartreuseans meeting on the Long Island? You said it was a no man’s land. That way, neither of you are actually violating the taboo. You get a ride on the big ship and we will even act as go betweens, betwixt you and them.”

  “Ain’t no way that would work.” Pita held up the intricately carved staff of his sires. “My ancestors did not trust these people one wit and that’s all I need to know.”

  Mendaka couldn’t remember a time when he was more frustrated. He reminded himself that Surrey had trusted him to handle any eventuality that came up. “I understand your fears, Pita, but Turtle Duck has met the Chartreuseans and is sure they are a peaceful people, not given to any form of violence.” He turned to Turtle Duck and said, “Isn’t that right?”

  “As peaceful as my grandmother, of course she scalped a couple Vardropi back in Tahlaquah.”

  Pita frowned as he considered their words. “If’n I decide to do this thing, we’d have to bring our dogs, just for our own comfort. And my wife, Edie, she’s gots to come along, too. Hate to admit it, she’s gots the good head when comes to figurin out things the right way.”

  “Shape it so.” Mendaka said.

  * * *

  Juan’s voyage had been a great success. He had trained Standing Bull in seamanship, mapped the coasts of the Isle of Ilkchild, delivered his cargo to Newport, successfully ran Pyrsyrus’ impenetrable blockade, and returned to Rosarita in victory. A week had passed since he had sent word to Sanangrar for his payment for services rendered.

  It was on the morning of the eighth day when the commissar arrived with his usual entourage of fawning priests. As Jose showed Sanangrar into the office at the hacienda, Juan sat back in his leather upholstered chair with Tree Song sitting next to him. Sanangrar had brought the same two skinheaded, dark-cowled Pitters as before with him. All three gave Tree Song contemptuous looks. Like a queen to a peasant, she ignored them while she stroked the white king on the ivory and onyx chess set atop Juan’s desk.

  Without rising, Juan gestured the three Pitters to the chairs across the desk from his.

  Sanangrar said, “It is the appointed day, El Capitan. I hope for your sake that your mission has been as successful as you declared?”

  “By all means. You know it has been or you would not be here. I trained your spies in seamanship, found two large ports for your troops and your proposed labor camps, delivered your captives to Newport, and ran the Pyringean blockade. Just as we bargained for.”

  Juan reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a skin map. Then pulling his stiletto, he pointed at two bays on the west coast of the Isle of Ilkchild. “Here and here, you could establish ports and camps for your legions and go completely undetected by Sur Sceaf in Godeselle or the strange inhabitants in the south.”

  Sanangrar leaned forward for a better look. “Are there no inhabitants there on the west coast?”

  “A tiny settlement or two at the south end of the isle, but no sign of any villages from there on. Moreover, in this kettle shaped bay, you could hide a hundred legions.” He pointed to the northwest corner of the isle. The jungle is so thick, you would not even be seen. As if that were not enough. I measured from the Kettle Bay to Godeselle, the fortress of Sur Sceaf and you should be able easily to cut through the jungle in probably two to four weeks journey, at most. Then you could take Godeselle from behind. But this much I do know, there is no army on earth that can take Godeselle from the east and the entire eastern seaboard is a solid rock wall til it meets the sea at lands end. However, you could launch attacks up the delta in the south, but we discerned numerous campfires that would indicate there are numerous inhabitants as well in those regions that are probably sympathetic to the Herewardi.”

  Sanangrar appeared pleased. “This only means more slaves! You have earned your keep well, Capitan Juan.” Sanangrar said. “When do you start transporting the legions of the Cha’Kal and my captives from the Guatemala?”

  Juan cringed at the thought of hauling slaves; it was just so abhorrent to his nature. “Just as soon as you deposit six million more gold solidi at my feet as was per our agreement.” Juan Carlos said with a smile.

  “I thought it was five million.”

  “No, it will be six million after my assessment. Take it or leave it.”

  Sanangrar said, “It was our agreement and I have the money with me.” He turned to one of the priests. “Huseini, go and fetch the payment.”

  Juan reached inside his desk, pulled out a wooden box, opened the lid and proferred Sanangrar a cigar, “I have these cigars specially made for me with the combination of a mild and bitter blend of tobacco.”

  Sanangrar took one, ran it along his nose to smell it, then placed it to his mouth as Tree Song offered to light it with a candle. As she leaned forward, he drew in the smoke. Suddenly a puzzled look crossed his face as his attention was abruptly focused on Tree Song. “What the hell is this?” He belted out. “Is this not one of the captives, the Apache girl, daughter of Mangas, I sent with you?”

  “It is,” Juan said as he smoothed his sleek black mustache with a finger. “While we were at sea, there was no way to carry on further negotiations with you. I did not wish to charge you for the one ship I lost to the Herewardi while running the blockade. So I just took the Apache woman as my payment.”

  Sanangrar appeared as though he was ready to grind his teeth to nubs. “But you did deliver the other nine to the Newport zonga. Right?”

  “Right. I delivered the other nine women to the Newport zonga as agreed.” He paused before adding with a smile. “And then purchased them back from the Pitter guards.”

  Sanangrar nearly choked on the smoke he had just inhaled. “Angrar damn you!” He spat out as he slammed his fist down on the desk. “Her two brothers escaped our camp in Copperopolis with a Sharaka witch and killed one of our most promising and upcoming captains. What gives you the right to think you can play with my orders and steal what is mine?”

  Juan’s smile broadened. “What gives you the right to think you own them? Besides, my lady would not come with me if her Navajo friends did not come with her.” Juan twisted his stiletto back and forth while staring at the blade. The urge to plunge it into Sanangrar’s throat was nearly irresistible. “It is a ver
y small concession you grant me here. That is, if you want your men and slaves transported to this isle.” He stabbed the kettle shaped bay with the point of his stiletto.

  Sanangrar spoke through gritted teeth. “Damn you. When this is over--”

  Juan interrupted, “When this is over I will have made you worth ten times ten what you are paying me. You may even forget I ever existed and since no one need know about this little concession you have granted me, we can go on as before.”

  * * *

  Near the southern mouth of the Aber Gael River the rest of Mendaka’s crew and the Ceruleans were all on the eastern shore. Turtle Duck received the flag signals to leave from Xelph across the river. He dropped one last porter boat over with a few more crewmen and departed on a course back across the Aber Gael River to present the proposal of an intertribal council fire with the Ceruleans, and the Chartreuseans. Once the Ceruleans agreed to the meeting on the isle in the river, the porter boats ferried them to the long island. There they awaited the arrival of Edie and the runner Kletus had sent to fetch her. The porter boat ferrying her across was accompanied by the fellows and their large dogs. They had agreed to meet in the oaken savannah on the eastern beach of the long island.

  As they waited in the flat oak savannah, they took note of a scurry of large squirrels leaping from branch to branch while a troop of lemurs darted for the trees.

  “Did you ever see squirrels of this size before, Mendaka?” Coyote asked.

  “Can’t say I ever have,” Mendaka admitted, at the same time looking up at the large red squirrels with their tufted ears scampering about the oaks.

  When Pita and Edie joined them, Pita explained, “These here squirrels of the Long Island are the largest we have and got plenty of ‘em too. Our youngins are allowed to hunt here on their own, cause there ain’t no dangerous animals here about. Just squirrels and lemurs, y’all saw there.”

  “Now, Pita,” Edie said, “don’t ja forget them oxfinxs that sometimes show up. That ol’ oxfinx can gut you with his claws, if you ain’t watchin real careful like.”