The Isle of Ilkchild (The King of Three Bloods Book 4)
Page 8
“I do. I had heard you were a wose before I was captured. Tell me friend, what happened to you? Tell me how you became a Wose. What turned you into such a wild man?”
“No, Ilker, I can’t speak it aloud.” Wose hesitated, then something told him Ilker needed to know his story. And maybe, he thought, I need to tell it. He began, “Years ago I was a twelver in the famed fyrd of the Stonyford stronghold in Kalifornia.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“There in the brush and grasslands I learned the art of shapeshifting. It was taught to me by a Sharaka friend called Spirit Man. I had built a sheep ranch and horse stud far outside of Stonyford in the grassy hill lands of Zamora. I had established a wide kingdom there with flocks and herds to rival any king. You likely know all this… To some it may have seemed a very lonely place, but I loved the quiet and peace it afforded. I built my manor called Huginn there in the beautiful white woods of Zamora, and kept an estate in Stonyford called Munnin. I acquired the piece of land there at Huginn where I built a large wood manor, and kept four thousand head of sheep, five hundred mares, a large herd of wisents, and a large eucalyptus forest among the rolling grasslands. My nearest neighbor was your friend Sigurdstrand the horse master, who ran a grey horse stud up the valley from me in Colusa.”
Wose breathed deeply as he felt himself enter the dark space of a painful memory he was not wont to think on. “Even though I had heard that Pitter Raiders had been spotted in the Sacramen Valley, I thought we were too remote to be in any danger. Still to be doubly sure, I consulted with fyrd heretoga Leif, and he said we were not likely to have any Pitter bands running through the valley. So I left my wives and children with my foreman, Arbuckle Bill, believing that all danger was still afar off, and surely no danger would befall them. I took my shepherds with me to make our rounds mustering the sheep in for lambing.”
He paused and swallowed hard. “When I returned from the muster two weeks later, I saw a great swarm of vultures circling in the distance over my homestead. I thought perhaps a bear had attacked some of my wisents. When I arrived, my eyes did not want to see. My world had been destroyed. My wives and children were all dead--”
Ilker put his hand on the Wose’s back, “Please, if it’s too painful you don’t need to go on.”
Wose paused and took another deep drink of ale.
“Wose, you really don’t have to tell me. I get the picture.”
“Please, I must. I must. I’ve never told anyone of this before. My heart has turned in me, and if I don’t get this out, it will poison me into silence again.” He gulped another drink. “Coming upon the scene of my slaughtered family was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It is beyond my ability to describe. My horses were whinnying, sheep were bleating, and crows filled the trees. The vultures flew when I arrived. ...Bodies laid strewn in puddles of tarry blood... I was surrounded by death. People I loved. Arbuckle Bill was impaled on a large stake; his man parts, fingers, and ears taken as trophies. All were dead, my three wives, my nine children. Druscillah, who had just been born...I saw my sons with their bellies ripped open... and flies clustered in their little mouths... My tender children… I saw things I will not speak... for it would open the very doors of Hellheim to utter them. Horror fell upon me, and my heart grew sick with rage when I realized the evil bastards--” Wose felt as if he was drowning and took a large drink. “It was then I saw the Pitters had performed blood eagles on my wives.”
Ilker breathed out. “My God.” He held Wose by the arms. “There are no words for such sorrows. I have seen many such sights, and shudder to recall them. Evil seemingly seeps into even the holiest of places. Despite such memories, remember, my friend, despite our endless sorrows, joy still remains in the world. There are many who yet love you, and wish to see you return to the land of the living.”
It took every bit of Wose’s will to stay rooted on the bench and not go screaming out into the night. He looked down at his fists. He remembered how they were red and blue when he broke his hand striking a eucalyptus tree the day he found his family dead.
“I never realized evil would ever come to my home. It had always been a far off thing. Why did I leave my family so vulnerable? It was all my fault. I cannot forgive myself! To atone in part I have become a wose and have vowed vengeance ever since.”
Ilker placed his hand over Wose’s drawn fist.
“You must not blame yourself. It was not your fault. It was the evil hand of the Pitter.” Ilker placed another calming hand on Wose’s shoulder while he sobbed.
“But it was my fault. I left them. The place my family had occupied in my heart has now turned to blood lust, and I thirst forever for Pitter blood. The manor I lived in and called a paradise is now a stage of horror which I must needs flee from and may never return.
“After burying my loved ones and building a dolmen for them in Zamora, I set out with scramasax and kukri to slit the throat of every Pitter rat pack I could find from the Sacramen to Fort Rock.”
“Your soul can find peace and quiet now.”
“I wouldn’t even know what a quiet mind felt like.”
Wose got to his feet, put his hand on the pillar of the pergola and stared at the torches and candles burning in the garden. He remembered stacking the bodies of his wives and children in the dolmen that day. He turned back to Ilker. “Thank you for being here and listening to me. You have opened the dark doors of my soul, and been a true friend to me.”
“My ears and heart are always open to you my friend. I too must face what has been taken from me. It is with great effort I return to Herewardom.”
They strolled about the garden then returned to the queen’s hall. Lord Ilrundel had left the company, but the others were still feasting and merrymaking with dance, song, and story telling.
* * *
Va-Eyra, Syr Elf, and Lilly were all laughing and enjoying the feast when Wose and Ilker returned.
The queen asked, “Did you two enjoy the garden?”
“It was lovely.” Ilker answered
Va-Eyra noticed there was something different with the Wose, something she had never seen before, but she could not define it. At the moment, she had responsibilities to her guests and would have to consider that matter later.
Va-Eyra squared her shoulders and rose to her feet. She signaled for the muscians to stop playing. She struck her scepter to the floor thrice. The hall went silent and all looked to her expectantly.
“I would like to thank the musicians and dancers for their performances tonight. As always they were excellent. And now as a special treat I would like to call upon one of our noble guests of honor to tell his tale of his return from the Shadow of Death.” She turned toward Ilker. “Lord Ilker, please enlighten us, if you will.”
Ilker rose, took a quick drink of ale, and waited till the queen and her guests were all seated.
A hush fell over the assemblage. Fyrd members leaned forward in their chairs eagerly anticipating the telling. Ilker stood tall and striking with his golden mane of hair gleaming in the candlelight.
Lilly whispered to Atla, “When I first met the Wose, he seemed like a common wayfarer. Now he looks like a king, but Ilker looks like a god.”
Ilker stole another quick sip.
Va whispered to Wose, “He looks nervous.”
“Once there was a foolish young warrior,” Ilker began, “who thought he was called and ordained by Howrus to fulfill the Prophecy of Elrus, made in the age when elves to Earth came more frequently than in these times. The prophecy read, ‘One of the seed of Hrus-Syr-Os from Baldurean descent shall return to the ancestral lands of the Firginias, and as a Green Knight, help reclaim all the lands of Herewardi inheritances from the west to the east. This shall transpire in the day of the Ascenscion of the King of Three Bloods.’
“Yes, this foolish young man thought he was none other than the Green Knight of prophecy. His faith was supported by the fact that he and his fyrd had managed to reclaim some of the Herewardi Lands in the Tax
us Hilly Country. After all, he and his compatriots had successfully driven back the Pitters and even began the re-settlement of our former lands. Several years passed in relative peace. Then with little warning, the settlement at Omala was attacked by the Skull Worm and twenty Pitter legions, who pressed my fyrd, rendered me unconscious, and due to their great numbers killed all but one of my fyrd. This was only later made known to me. As I woke up from unconsciousness in a Pitter prison camp, I realized, I was not the Green Knight, and that the gods chose to humble me by delivering me into the Pitter hands. For two long years I fought in the Hell Rink of Balaban and lived with those soul-eaters until I was gifted to a commissar by the name of Cha’Kal.”
Ilrundel asked his father, “You were having such success in the Taxus, how could they have rooted you back out?”
“It was sheer mathematics,” Ilker said, “we easily matched them one for ten, but they had us a hundred to one.”
Beeilk stood up and asked, “Ilker, can you tell me anything about my brother, Van-Olf?”
Ilker nodded his head. “I have known few men of such valor. We drove Pitter legion after Pitter legion back and formed our defenses at a place on the river called Omala Plains where we brought all the settlers for their protection. Van-Olf and his fyrd were put in charge of the garrison there, while I and my fyrd went out with our Hickoryan allies to do battle. There was a huge fray that lasted for several hours. Then I was clubbed unconscious. Fortunately, I had fallen not within the ranks of my fyrd, but among the Hickoryans which proved to be my salvation. I only know from a Ndee warrior I shared prison with that Van-Olf stayed in Omala with the fyrd to resist the legions until settlers could make their escape safely into the White Mountains.”
Beeilk declared, “Before he was killed he managed to give your journal to a silver harrier, and sent him off with it to announce to all Herewardom that the Herewardi had died to the last man, and only a remnant of the Hickoryans survived who were subsequently sold into slavery.”
Ilker struck his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Now, it’s very clear to me, why I was thought to be dead. Sometime after the harrier had escaped, the Pitters slew everyone at Leakey, gathered all the bodies of the fyrd members and burned them so that no trace could ever be found of them among men or Herewardi forever. Their spies had told them this is the way Herewardi dealt with their enemies. I learned this from the Cha’Kal who bragged about it. But we will forever remember the fallen and someday we will build a memorial to them at the Omala, at Banderas, and at the Monasteries of Leakey. You should be very proud of your brother, Beeilk. He was a true hero.”
“Thank you Ilker,” Beeilk said, as he choked up. “It will give the family much comfort to know that he is in Valhalla drinking with the slain.”
“I am curious,” Va-Eyra said, “How is it the Pitters allowed you, a Herewardi lord, to live?”
“I was thought to be a Hickoryan because in my mistaken belief that I was the Green Knight, I wore acid-green attire instead of the traditional red of the fyrd. I was lying among the Hickoryan wounded when I was found. They took me prisoner thinking to process me into a slave or soldier. Upon awakening, I learned that my entire fyrd had been slain, but a host of other Herewardi along with a band of Hickoryans had escaped safely into the Ndee Lands. No fyrd will ever desert their leader or their twelver, so my men perished under the overwhelming hoard of that pale-dark fiend, Skull Worm, who reveled devilishly in his wicked victory.
“All men who know the Skull Worm fear him, for he has issued a decree to end the entire Herewardi Race; that, be they man, woman, or suckling child, he shall feast upon their flesh. The Ndee have said they have witnessed him eating the brains of Herewardi children and joking that he cut his teeth on their bones.”
Ilker took a large swig of ale, put his krug down and continued once again. “Subsequently, I ended up in a Pitter death camp for the better part of a year where the Pitter commissar, Balaban tried to work us captives to death. They assumed I was Hickoryan and my Hickoryan comrades did not betray me. It wasn’t long till the Hickoryan tongue came easy to me, if I just dreeww the wooords riiight out.”
All the Hickoryan maidens laughed.
Atla commented, “Perhaps too much.”
Ilker grinned. “Fortunately, the Pitter ear is not as finely tuned as yours, my lady. To continue, the Pitter guards would entertain themselves by having the exhausted prisoners participate in fights where the Pitter guards laid down large bets. I became their champion, and as the winner, won extra food and privileges, even got out of most of the work.”
April, the Hickoryan maiden asked, “Were the fights with weapons? Was it to the death?” Her eyes were wide with excitement.
“No, they don’t want to lose a worker. We fought with fist, feet, elbows, and head. The first to cry halt was the loser.”
“Why did they call you Butter Nut Green?” Wose asked.
“The Hickoryans named me that. It’s due to my habit of dressing in all green, the color of a butter nut tree. One day another Pitter leader named Xombro came and watched me in a fight. He was so impressed with me that he wanted to buy me from Balaban for thirty gold solidi. I was subsequently sold to Xombro to be trained as a soldier. After six moonths, Xombro in turn, wanted to impress the new commissar he knew to be the son of the Skull Worm. So he gifted me to the Cha’Kal. At first he treated me with contempt and wasn’t sure what to do with me. But after he killed two of his personal valets within a moonth, I managed to ingratiate myself to the Cha’Kal by anticipating his needs in advance. He appointed me to be his personal valet. I planned his days for him, fed him, saw to his needs and gave him his noogs. I crossed the entire west of Panygyrus under his command.”
“What are noogs?” Atla asked.
“They are drugs that come out of the Poisoned Lands. They energize you and make people not care what’s happening around them.”
Wose said, “Too bad you didn’t give him poison in his noogs.”
“Believe me, that thought was foremost on my mind. Sometimes I would give him more noogs, just so he wouldn’t bother the women whom he so sorely misused.”
Lilly shuddered and exchanged glances with Atla who exclaimed, “Thank the gods you and the Wose were there to save us from his clutches.”
“All thanks to the Wose who was the Smoke Ghost, my lady.”
Va-Eyra asked, “Lord Ilker, did you ever consider escape?”
“Oh, yes, I thought about it all the time, but knew I would only have one chance. My Apache friend and I talked about it many times, but we could not get close enough to a Herewardi settlement to do it. In point of fact, I could have escaped long before I came to the high desert, had I not stayed to overhear the Cha’Kal’s meetings with his allies. I knew I must stay and discover the details of their plotting. Such was my duty to the Herewardi cause I had so failed by going to war against the will of the Roufy-Trof. Otherwise, I would have long ago been home by now.
“My Apache friend, Chiggibah, managed to escape when we went into Kanarra. He had urged me to go into the White Mountains with him; told me that there was a powerful Herewardi group located in the White Mountains led by one Kanarus of the Kaninchens. I told him that more likely they were Hickoryan or Rogues, for I knew of few Herewardi living amongst the Ndee these days, save only Govannon the Wizard.
“I knew of no warrior by the name of Kanarus and thought he must be mistaken.”
Ilker took a deep breath, then another gulp of ale that drained his krug. “If you wish me to continue, you must refresh my krug,” he said with a smile. A steward quickly supplied him with a refill. Everyone was on the edge of their chairs waiting to hear more.
Va-Eyra said, “I think Ilker is trying to make up for all the lost drinks of ale he has missed.”
Amidst the laughter that followed, Ilker declared, “Yes, I am, my lady, I missed it so much. Nothing compares to it in flavor.” He paused and pinched his fingers together, “Except, maybe Govannon’s ale.”
“And its powerful punch,” Wose added.
Ilker saluted Wose with his krug before taking a long sip. He wiped the froth off his mustache and continued, “When the Cha’Kal got report that Balaban had lost four of his legions to this Kanarus, he was enraged. The Apache told me it was because Balaban saw an owl on the night before the battle. It is said that Balaban is very superstitious. This is why most of the Pitters and Growlings greatly feared this Kanarus, for Kanarus was said to be a falconer and an owler. But because the Cha’Kal is not of full Pitter blood, he had little to no fear of owls. To Cha’Kal all men are but objects. Kanarus was just a bigger object that had to be removed. He planned to march on Kanarus into the Apache Lands.”
“You mean Pitters are afraid of owls,” April asked. “I wouldn’t think evil men were afraid of anything.”
“Oh, but they are the most fearful of all people, young maid. You see, the Cha’Kal’s troops believed there were creeps that lived in the White Mountains, that, along with the ominous defeat of Balaban created a great fear in the legionnaires. The Cha’Kal, on the other hand, is different in this respect. He is cold, logical, strategic, and calculating. He’s a half-breed, at least a Quant. He being the son of the cold-hearted witch, Yggep of the Poison Lands, and The Skull Worm’s strange begetting.”
The crowd stirred in murmurings and Ilker said, “I know you have heard the Pitters will not mate with other tribes, and if mated cannot produce offspring, but this was a special circumstance, which I don’t have time to explain just now. The process is complex and beyond the realm of our experience.”
Ilker paused long in reminiscence, while the steward took it as a cue to hurriedly refill krugs.
The queen said, “We are going to have to pause and return to the story telling after the Syrean Dancers perform their number. Before they get started, please use this time to relieve yourselves, snack, or just chat.