He was still staring into the man’s world weary eyes when he heard three sharp knocks. He replied with three like knocks, then opened the door to the young heretoga commander. “Come in Lord Ilrundel.”
Ilker’s son stood tall and powerful in his fresh red fyrd uniform, an almost exact replica of his father at that age. It looked as if he too had washed off the dust of travel before presenting himself at Wose’s door. “Wose! What a drastic change you have wrought upon yourself. You look every bit the king you were in your youth.”
“Yes, Ilrundel, truly, I feel a change stirring within my heart. The outer vessel is but a mould around the inner form. I am softening. I know not why.”
“Pardon, but you summoned me, Wose, with pressing business. I am here at your service.”
“Sit down, for I have some very good, but very shocking, almost unbelievable news to deliver to you.”
Ilrundel stepped inside and took one of the leather chairs positioned on either side of the fireplace. Wose settled into the one opposite.
Ilrundel turned up an eyebrow, “I cannot believe any news could be shocking to me, for I’ve already seen much, though it grows worse with each passing day.”
“Well, the young always think that, but trust me you will be shocked.”
“What is it? Kane has returned home from the White Mountains?”
“No! The news I have for you concerns your father, Ilker. I am pleased to be able to tell you in the name of Howrus, that your father yet lives and charges me to prepare you before the two of you meet face to face.”
Ilrundel could not find it in himself to believe him. “Wose you have gone mad with fever of the brain. A wildman can hear many things in the solitude of the desert. Methinks you have become like Sway Ray, a ghost chaser. I have put visions and dreams far from me and cannot entertain such impossibilities. We all must accept the fate the Norn Sisters weave us.”
Wose rose and walked over to the door and gave three knocks which were followed by two knocks. Then Wose gave another knock. The oak door opened revealing a tall golden haired man in brown pants, a white blousey shirt, and a white cravat, the same as Wose wore.
The ghost spoke, “Ilrundel, do you not recognize thy own father?”
With a strangled cry of joy, Ilrundel sprang up and embraced Ilker. “Father!” The two embraced, wept and slapped each other on the back repeatedly.
Ilker held Ilrundel at arm’s length. “Let me look at you. It is clear you are a man now, and an impressive one at that. You were but a skinny colt when I left you, and now you have the strength of a warrior in those bones.” They embraced again.
“How is any of this possible, Father? Everyone had you for dead. Everyone, that is, but the Lady Swan Ray. We all thought she had gone mad, had a goblin-robbed mind, and was no more than a ghost chaser. How cruel of us to deny her, her great gift as a seeress. We have all done her a very great evil. Shame on us! There will be much penitence to make.”
“Where is she?” Ilker asked eagerly.
“She is down in Namen Jewell and preparing to leave, if they have not already left, for the coasts.”
“Why would my wives be going to the coasts?”
“Oh, Father, do I have to be the one to tell you this?” Ilrundel groaned aloud. “At your death, Lady Pam-El-Ea died on her bed from grief, and your wives Lady Donya and Lady Swan Ray are married to your best friend, Pyrsyrus. Your wives, Rhetta and Hunigtear were taken by Lord Sigrun of Stonyford. Edmund of Syra took Freya and Saealbi to wife. My mother, Aedith, chose not to wed again and lives with her brother Egmund at Shasta.”
Ilker said in a strained voice, “What of your brothers and sisters?”
“Well, many of the older ones are married. I can give you a full accounting later, but I’ve been away for the past four years. What I do know is Kane is a powerful heretoga of several irregular fyrds, I am heretoga of the queen’s fyrds, Ilkchild has been adopted by Sur Sceaf, and your daughter Brynhild is in training to become a lore master at Maiden’s Head. Of course, Faechild is happily married to the Lord Sur Sceaf, who is now the chief of chiefs of the three tribes.”
It was apparent to Wose that the joy of deliverance in Ilker had sunken into some sort of internal grief, for the world he had hoped to rejoin, was now set upside down and scattered into the four directions of heaven.
“I am sorry I had to be the one to tell you all this, Fa.”
Ilker declared, “It’s alright son. I’ve been knocked down for so long, Ilrundel, I don’t know what it is like to feel good, and when I see the good coming I still have this lagging misery to deal with. I suppose I will sort it all out over time, but for now, my sun of rejoicing is broken. I should never have expected a stream to be the same as when I first entered it, but somehow I always pictured my family would be just as I had left them. It’s kept me going all these years, completely illogical as it now seems.”
“Well, I am sure,” Wose said, “you may petition the Swannery for your wives back. If it be their will to return them they will be returned to you and you can pick up where you left off.”
“Not where I left off my friend. My garden has been tilled in my absence. Some of my favorite trees have been cut down or transplanted. It will be a painful adjustment at best.”
Ilrundel said, “Lady Swan Ray has from day one insisted you were still alive and that everyone should hold out for your return. She has not taken up bed with Pyrsyrus, though she be his wife and takes his board. Yet so many mocked her and dismissed her as a fallen seer.”
“What is sure here,” Ilker said, “is that if Swan Ray wishes to unhand Pyrsyrus and return to me, she shall be appointed the faery-mother over my bride covey, now that dear Pam-El-Ea has passed into the summer lands. It was foolish of me to have gone off, half-cocked to war without the approval of the Roufytrof. Oh Odhin, I did not intend to bring this much harm on my house.”
Ilrundel said, “Fa, do not condemn yourself. It is true the savants of the Roufytrof operate with great wisdom, but sometimes the gods will us as individuals to assert ourselves and give expression to our seed code in the manner best suited us.”
Wose chimed in, “Let us not forget how many cities you reclaimed and how much hope you stirred up in this rising generation.”
“He’s right Fa, the members of my fyrd deem you one of their favorite heroes. And you mustn’t forget the large number of captives you set free from Pitter enslavement in days gone by.”
Wose went to the door and beckoned a steward to bring some high desert ale. After several krugs were drained and Ilker was in a more positive mood, it was time to go to dinner in the queen’s hall. Wose stopped by the mirror in the hallway.
“If I didn’t know who you were, I’d never have guessed you were the Wild Wose I knew. Now you look as others described you in times past.” Ilrundel said. “And you no longer smell like a goat, for a change.”
They laughed.
“Ilrundel, I can never be myself again. You see but a shadow of me from the past. Inside here,” he struck his chest for emphasis, “there is darkness and rage, emptiness and grief. Though I sense, there is a spark now glistening in that darkness. I know not what it will ignite. I am frightened to stoke it.”
Chapter 6 : Ilker’s Tale and the Queen’s Festive Board
Va-Eyra made it a point to arrive early at the banquet hall to greet her guests as they arrived. Accompanied by Syr Elf and her scribe, Thunar, she made a thorough examination of the hall and pronounced the preparations excellent. It was to be a celebration of Ilker’s return and Wose’s victories with music, song, dance, and entertainment around the festive board.
The queen’s table was round and placed directly in front of lines of long banquet tables running parallel to it like rays from the sun, at which the eighteen rescued maidens and Ilrundel’s elite fyrd were all seated. The musicians played, while steaming dishes were brought out and placed on the tables. Beef and goose were the main fare, and rich breads and pies were their complement. Du
ring the festivities, as they drank ale and feasted on the rich meats and pies, the queen stood up and struck the base of her rose rood scepter three times on the floor to get everyone’s attention. She had taken the blood rood as the sigil of her sceptre, for though she loved the Heathen gods, she also embraced the Christ in her worshipping.
The queen had in addition to the chandeliers, extra candles lit at every table. Musicians played the lyre, lute, and mandolins in the background. Wose sat as a guest with Va-Eyra at the queen’s table along with Ilker, Ilrundel, Lilly, and Atla.
Seated at the other tables were the rest of the rescued maidens and Ilrundel’s elite fyrd. Smiling stewards in gleaming white tunics were busy filling krugs of the robust high desert ale and passing them out to the eager guests. Old fyrd members, comrades of both Ilker and Wose, came up to shake hands and welcome them to Fort Rock. It was a joyous occasion to be able to celebrate the rescue of the maidens and the return of a long lost swan lord. The celebrants drank ale and feasted on the rich meats, pies, and delicacies. There was laughter, good natured teasing, and flyting abounding in the hall.
Finally, after everyone had eaten their fill, the queen ordered the tables cleared.
Once the krugs were refilled, the queen stood up and struck her scepter three times. After the hall grew quiet, she began speaking. “Amidst all the troubles in the land, it is an honor to celebrate the good news of the rescue of our ambassador, Atla, and the maidens from Redmond.”
At the prodding of their table companions, the maidens all stood and bowed to the queen before resuming their seats.
“We especially want to welcome the famed Taxus fyrd heretoga, Lord Ilker, son of Elif.”
Ilker blushed and looked like he wanted to escape. Wose got to his feet and began clapping. The fyrd took the cue, standing in unison to give Ilker a grand Haka greeting that thundered through the hall with their feet stamping, as they beat their thighs, and roared loud enough to shake the timbers of the hall.
Once the tribute abated, Syr Elf tugged on his mother’s robe and said, “I really liked that. Could they do it again?”
The queen sat down and said, “No, dear. Once was enough. They almost brought these timbers down on us as it was.”
Beeilk stood up with his krug in one hand and raised the other for quiet. “With the queen’s permission, I offer a toast to the man who does more good and more fighting than the rest of us all put together.” At the queen’s nod of approval, he smiled, lifted his krug high and said, “To Wose, the Smoke Ghost.”
The celebrants raised their krugs and said, “To Wose, the Smoke Ghost.” And then drank deep.
The Wose was surprised. He was befuddled by the praise. Reluctantly he rose and said in response, “To our noble brother raised from the dead. To Ilker, the Green Knight of Taxus.” He drank deep and slammed down his krug and the others followed.
Ilker then rose and said, “To our adorable, beloved hostess, the fearsome she-cat of the desert, Queen Va-Eyra, and to any opportunity we can find to drink to her unexcelled ale.” The others rose, laughed, and downed their drink. Dancing commenced, and Atla dragged Wose out on the floor.
The queen studied Wose as he walked away and leaned over to Lilly to say, “He cleans up good, doesn’t he? I have known the man since I was a maid. I had to choose between him and my husband. It was not an easy choice. I’ve seen him in uniform and all manner of clothing, but I haven’t seen him dressed in formal clothing in over a decade.”
Lilly smiled. Va-Eyra took an immediate liking to the young woman. She was as pretty as flower, and Va sensed depth of spirit in her.
“He does look considerably improved, my queen. He reminds me so much of my father, but there seems to be some untouchable sadness in him.”
“You sense right, it’s been a hard road these past 15 or so years. But it looks like he’s ripe and considering return to the joys of the living. Something I have long waited for.”
The queen realized, Lilly had awakened something in the Wose. She hadn’t seen him act so alive in all the past ten years. To dance would have been unthought of. In the midst of all the revelry, she felt the fantasy she had of them being married was beginning to evaporate. Truly, Wose was her Smoke Ghost. After all, in the logic of nature, what man wouldn’t chose a young, twenty some year old beauty over a woman greying at the temples. Fortunately, I never threw myself at him, and have kept my hopes for the two of us secret all these years.
After the dance, Wose escorted Atla back to the queen’s table. It was apparent that Va-Eyra and Lilly had been talking about him. As he seated Atla, Ilrundel asked Lilly to dance. She seemed delighted at the opportunity.
With a quick refilling of his krug, Wose walked over to stand on the side-line to observe the merrymaking. After ten years of being alone and living like an animal, society felt foreign to him. The urge to retreat into solitude was pressing on him once again, and yet he knew that being the guest of honor he could not breach etiquette and leave. It would be an unforgivable insult to the queen, whom he held in highest esteem. He had always wondered why she chose Rus-Syr-Os over him when they were seventeen winters. She had told him she could not decide, so she cast the runes and the ‘R’ rune showed up everytime.
As the evening wore on Lilly and Ilrundel became engrossed in one another. A roving waiter noticed the Wose’s empty krug and poured him another drink. People began to take notice that he was standing alone, so he returned to the table next to the queen. Ilker was involved with his old compatriots, and they were all having a jolly time together. Syr Elf was just kissing his mother goodnight when the steward came for him.
Wose scanned the dance floor and remarked, “Ilrundel seems quite taken with Lilly.”
The queen smiled, “And she with him. I think youth just love to dance. Lilly has a few minor wounds, but nothing compared to the other girls. Her feet seemed fine. She must have done a lot of bare footing in her day.”
“She is a remarkable woman, was once a goatherd, and is quite capable of leading.”
“I noticed that she’s quite fond of you.”
“Fond, as in seeing me as her deliverer?”
The queen said, “You mustn’t sell yourself short, my friend. Despite your wild behaviors, you still cut a handsome figure.”
Her smile sent a warm glow rushing through him. She was so noble in her bearing, so mature in her wisdom, so completely comfortable in every situation. He realized that he still truly and deeply loved Va-Eyra.
Ilrundel led Lilly from the dance floor to the queen’s table. After seating her, he was about to sit next to her, when Ilker came up and said, “Son, why don’t you take this young lady to meet Sigurdstrand and Sigurd of Zamora, my old friends from younger days.”
Out of respect for his fa, Ilrundel took Lilly’s hand, and they excused themselves from the table. A waiter came over to offer everyone more ale. Wose held out his krug for a refill, then he noticed Ilker staring at him.
At his look of inquiry, Ilker said, “I could sure use some fresh air.”
Wose took the hint. “Would you care to join me in the garden?”
He looked relieved. “Yes. I’ve been admiring it out the windows since we got here.”
Wose stood up and said, “With your permission, my queen, Ilker and I will take a tour of your secret garden.”
“Of course,” Va-Eyra said, “It is, after all, a beautiful night.”
As they left the hall through the doors, the guards saluted Wose and Ilker with the greatest of deference. One stepped forward to say, “If I may take the liberty, it’s good to have you both back. Great men are needed in these trying times.”
The Wose bowed in return, “Thank you, Manfred.”
The garden was candle and torch lit. Glancing up the Wose saw the constellation of the Hunter with the three stars in his belt. “The Hunter watches over us tonight. You know, when I look at the stars I believe our loved ones are watching over us.”
“Yes, but where are they leading
us?” Ilker asked. “The Hunter is one of the clearest star marks. Surely, a man like you would relate to such a constellation. Clear of intent, always poised to kill.”
They made their way to a rock bench situated in a pergola backed into a bank of lavender. As they sat upon the bench, Wose remembered his daughter pulling a sprig of lavender and sliding it into his hair saying, ‘Now let me see how I should place this twig to disguise you.’
‘First off, I’d never use that fragrant of an herb unless it blended with the environment I was in.’
‘What about this one?’ she asked, as she plucked a sprig of santolina.
‘No, it’s too strong of an odor. It would destroy my crypsis and someone could detect me.’
How often he would play such games with Orchid. It occurred to him, that had she lived, Orchid would have been around Lilly’s age.
“In the high desert, I disguise myself in native plants such as rabbit brush, juniper, or artemesia. One must blend as perfectly as possible with one’s surroundings. All of those plants are brothers and sisters to me. They have shielded me from death more than any armor I have ever worn. But here, in an inhabited place, lavenders and roses remind me of my actual family. I have avoided such tended gardens these years as a wose. The nostalgia is painful for me.”
Ilker nodded, looking ever as sober as a wose in the torch light. “All those girls we led through the desert thought you were just a wild man, a loner. They’d have never guessed you were once a nobleman, knowing star marks and herbs. They must have been shocked to see you dressed like a gentleman, and so greatly esteemed by everyman here.”
“I know many of them well. I served in Va-Eyra’s fyrd when I was Ilrundel’s age. But that is the past. No one wants to hear my old stories.”
The Isle of Ilkchild (The King of Three Bloods Book 4) Page 7
