The Isle of Ilkchild (The King of Three Bloods Book 4)

by Russ L. Howard

  “Syr Elf, it’s time for you to be off to bed now.”

  Syr Elf protested. “But Mama, I didn’t get to hear the end of Ilker’s tale.”

  “Oh, very well, stay up and you shall hear it.”

  The Syrean Dancers performed marvelously with their theatrical leaps and choreography portraying the theme of the star crossed lovers, El and Fae; a testament to King Pyrsyrus’ love and cultivation of the arts.

  The crowd clapped their approval, and the young dancers from the Sand Wand Islands bowed before taking their exit.

  The queen said, “I never tire of the telling of that story. Weren’t those youth just marvelous? Lord Pyrsyrus has allowed them to tour while they are down here studying at the academy at Maidens’s Head.” She paused and looked about the hall. “It shall now please me to hear Ilker tell the remainder of his ordeal.”

  “Hear! Hear!” yelled the crowd.

  Ilker took a deep breath and went on in a more hopeful note. “I had hoped to meet this Kanarus and his band of merry rebels, the Kaninchens, and thereby secure my freedom, but the Cha’Kal could not persuade his men to enter the White Mountains, due to their superstitions and fears. So we raided the Hutters further yet to the north instead. In all the raids of the Pitters, I pretended I was impotent, so that I never had to participate in rape. I told them I lost my malehood in the rink. And because I served diligently, no one ever questioned again why I didn’t participate in gang rape. My goal was to wait until I came near Herewardi Lands, and then I would escape. We never did end up in the White Mountains, but rather raided through the west. When we arrived at Bend, I knew I could escape to Fort Rock. The Wose intercepted us before I put my own plan of escape into action.”

  Ilrundel asked, “Father, why do you say you hope to meet Kanarus when you already know him?”

  “Why, I’ve never met him, lad. I don’t know what you mean.”

  Ilrundel smiled, “Kanarus is your son and my brother, Kane.”

  * * *

  The hour had grown late by the time the queen signaled the end of the banquet. The pre-dawn sky was filled with the sounds of chimney swifts returning to the safety of their nests, as the maidens were escorted to their bed chambers.

  The chamberlain directed the Wose to the queen’s chamber. After he knocked she answered, still attired in her queenly high-backed silver robe. He was beckoned to enter the soft amber lit room where the queen took up her seat in a large leather chair near the fireplace. She motioned for Wose to sit in the chair beside her. Between them on a small table were two bottles of Govannon’s ale and two glasses.

  It was apparent this was meant to be a special meeting. He saw more clearly the beauty he had, before, refused to see in Va-Eyra. The door of his heart had been opened and now he took note of her rich sable brown hair, emerald green eyes, and comely body. To his view it was like finding a large gold nugget in a muddy stream one had crossed over many times before. Now he was transfixed by her beauty. Perhaps, the events that had recently transpired were not by accident. Perhaps, the gods intended for him to view the world differently. Had not the black wose told him, his heart would be turned?

  As though she had read his mind, Va-Eyra asked, “Starkwulf, are you still going to fulfill your vows, or do you now intend to rejoin the living?”

  It was the first time since he had become a wose that she had used his given name. It was almost as if everybody was seeing him for who he used to be. He told himself it was the fancy clothes and the haircut, but he knew it was more than that. “Dearest queen,” wose leaned over the large leather arm of the chair next to her. “I have not yet fulfilled my vows to my satisfaction. I have yet a very important mission to accomplish. You know I am pledged to be the protector of the Lord Sur Sceaf. Soon, I must go to Klamath and follow Commander Scynscatha. I intend to stalk him to his death. Much evil is in that one man vested. He is on the blood trail to kill my lord, and this cannot be allowed. This time the hunter will become the hunted. When I am satisfied that my vows are fulfilled, I intend to return here yet again for something I thought never to find.”

  Wose studied the queen as she caressed the swan and rose-rood amulet of her power lying above her full breasts. She was beginning to grey around her temples, yet her brunette hair gave off rich brown hues that framed her finely chiseled features like the setting of a masterful ring. She came from a family of lovely women, a family that even the Sharaka had named ’the Beautiful People’ and she was equal to their name.

  There was a hush that called to mind the silence of songbirds when a hawk enters their bush. “It seems to me,” the queen said, “the Herewardi Law says that love is greater than any bond or oath and supersedes all other laws. As the great lore master Aegthjiof said, ‘The blood of true love burns hot enough to consume the laws of man like straw. Love cannot nor should not be contained by law.’ You have an out here, and I know Sur Sceaf would release you from your vows to Ludwig Hollar. Do you not know this to be so?”

  “Certainly! My queen.”

  “So, Starkwulf, do you not acknowledge that Sur Sceaf would grant you this boon so that you could now marry Lilly and return to a more genteel society. I know my dearly departed husband and your dear friend would never want to see you do such hard penitence as you have brought upon yourself. Neither do the gods require such.”

  “Well do I know it to be so, my dear queen. He has granted me these fourteen moonths in the high desert since he received the commission, that I might labor to fill the cup of my vengeance. I know it’s all about me and what my heart has constructed as the path of penitence, but I feel I have a threefold mission to accomplish. I must fulfill my love to Ludwig and Sur Sceaf, and...” He went silent again. His thoughts were loud as he listened to them before he finishing, “All at the completion of this mission. This is the keystone of my life. I know all would have me toss it over my shoulder because it does not fit their pattern, but I must set it carefully. Don’t you see, the arch of the future of Herewardom rests entirely upon Sur Sceaf’s survival and success.”

  “You said threefold mission, but you only declared two.”

  “There is a problem.”

  “You mean Lilly. You love her. Don’t you? I can certainly understand why and I shall be very happy for you. I think it is a good thing to have found love.”

  “Lilly? She was only the tinder that ignited the fire of my love.When she touched me as she washed my feet, I was flooded with reminiscence of love I had not dared to recall. I looked into her eyes and was overwhelmed. It was as if the grief of my family’s death was fresh, and yet, it was as though the grief were being washed from me, as the dust of the desert. Something has come upon me, a change, a spark. Now that I have seen you, and looked into your eyes, the flame has been stoked within me. A fire burns that long ago I thought had smoldered out forever. Life has purpose beyond revenge. Life has a future. You are the wind that fans the flames of my soul. My love for you never stopped, but only laid dormant. I have felt you anchored in my heart, and for a while have ignored the urge to return here for you, to return and be a man again.”

  Her jaw dropped and her face flushed. This was not what she had expected to hear.

  “Shades of Yster, I had no idea you felt that way about me. In fact, it seemed to me you were completely enthralled by Lilly.”

  “I have seen her stare at me. She looks at me as a savior, or a father who has cared for her. Truly she opened the crypt of my heart, that I might see in the light of a new day, and see you, my dear queen, as my love. I would love nothing more than to declare my love for you openly at this point and to beseech you to become my wife, but to do so would be betraying myself and my vow. I must return and complete my mission before I am free to ask your hand.”

  She smiled and gazed at him with the sparkling eyes of a young maiden. “Starkwulf, you must have known in all these years of our friendship that I held a secret love for you. I must admit when I saw you fawning on Lilly, I burned with jealousy. Every fiber in
my body begs for you to stay with me. Losing you the way I lost Rusyrus would be unbearable, but I know this is the counsel of my heart, and not my mind from which I speak. The Kingdom of Hereward still needs you.”

  “It appears the Norns have spun our fates thus.” Wose felt the deepest gratitude for this selfless woman and her love of their people. “Thank you, my beloved queen, for not putting me in the impossible place of having to decide between you and service to my people.”

  Wose stood up, pulled her up into his arms and they kissed long. “Now, I must go or I will never be able to wrench myself away from you. My heart has been prematurely awakened and it shall burden my tasks. I must now, somehow, put it back in its crypt to sleep, and complete the rest of my mission.”

  Chapter 7 : The Monsters of the Deep

  Behind the closed door of their guest room, Ilker demanded, “Ilrundel, why didn’t you tell me that Kane is the half-king Kanarus?”

  “Please, pardon me if I had forgotten that you left before he acquired that name, Fa.”

  “It is perhaps a good thing I did not know or I would have worried and I likely would not have stayed with the Cha’Kal long enough to have learned of the assassins.”

  “Yes, it appears the Norn Sisters have carefully woven this matter. That alone lends confirmation that Sur Sceaf is the appointed one of the gods.”

  “Tell me how this all came about.”

  “When it was believed you were dead, Kane vowed to avenge you and set out with Wselwulf and a young blood fyrd of irregulars from the White Mountains where he was sent as a member of the Sire Sheaf. His wives and children insisted on accompanying him. After Wselwulf was killed, Kane became the leader of the Irregulars. The Kaninchens are his family, friends, and renegade Herewardi who are sworn to retake their ancestral lands, as you once set out to do yourself. The Pitters have not been able to wrench him and the Apaches out of their stronghold, nor could they wrench him out of Tahlequah when he fought with the Cherokee, who called him Kanati.”

  Ilker shook his head, as if displeased.

  Ilrundel paused. “Fa, you must be weary. Shall we continue this tomorrow?”

  Annoyed, Ilker said, “I”m not an old man who wilts easily. I’ve waited too long for this. Tell me all, I must know. I just hope he is not as foolish as I was. Striking the Pitter Empire prematurely was a grave mistake. I would have done well to hearken unto the Roufytrof when they warned me. Alas, mix youthfulness with zeal and what do you get? Premature and haphazard results.”

  “You needn’t worry, Father. When last we met at a council fire in the Mountains of Kanarra, Kane assured all in attendance that he could hold off a hundred legions in the Apache stronghold if we could but supply him with food and resources. Unto this end, Sur Spear worked a deal with the Quailor, led by our fyrds to take in wagon loads of hay and grains along with food supplies to the stronghold. Additionally, we have contracted with several merchant caravans to make their stops frequently at Kanarra in Jute Tall.”

  “We need to get word off to him right away that I yet live.”

  “You would not recognize him, Father. When last you saw him he was a young blood of seventeen, born but three days before me. Now he’s man, a seasoned warrior, as fierce as any Apache, and forged of Welandean steel.”

  Ilker said, “My heart urges me to visit him in the Apache stronghold, but Kane has his mission and I have mine. I shall join Sur Sceaf and lend my sword to his cause, for he operates under the plan of the Forty-Four Savants, or wizards, whatever it is they call the Roufytrof these days.”

  “It’s wizards, but surely, Fa, it would be more appropriate for Kane to visit you.”

  “That is his choice, and it would greatly please me, but I would not hold it against him if he couldn’t. Perhaps tomorrow you can fill me in on all the other children.”

  “I’d be happy to, Fa, and I’ll endeavor to send out silver harriers to all of our scattered family members right away. They’re not going to believe this.” He gave a reassuring nod, “For now I need to rest.”

  * * *

  It was dawn once again, their third day at sea. Sur Sceaf was awake drinking sassafras, and mouthing hard tack, while Muryh pulled up the drag and Redfox raised sail.

  The night had been uneventful with calm seas, but fog thick enough to blot out the heavens lay over the deep like a heavy feather tick. Sur Sceaf was grateful for the warm wool blankets they had slept beneath, and despite the dew that had settled on them, they had remained snug and warm throughout the wind blasted night.

  The crewmen had taken turns on watch for two hour shifts according to the water gourd, which, when filled with water, took two hours to drip out its contents. As the sails drank the wind, Sur Sceaf sat alone in the bow of the boat and Hartmut steered them on a southwesterly course.

  The cries of the circling gulls above, the rhythmic lapping of water, and the ewe’s foot banner flapping above carried him deeper and deeper into thought. He looked through the lifting mist and imagined the rise of the city-state.

  Four of the eight rowers assigned to the first shift had finished their breakfast and taken their places on the benches in the middle of the boat. Although the rowers were practiced, they were still not proven. They had not harmonized with the other boat and had managed to get too far ahead of the Raven the day before.

  Sur Sceaf drained the last of his tea. As he was stowing the mug away, he heard a cry from starboard. The Tlingit naval officer, Raven’s Tongue, commander of the Raven, drew close and lowered his sails. Herman could be seen standing with a harpoon in hand, talking to Long Swan. Raven’s Tongue eased up next to the Honey Bee and spoke from his ship using a large hollowed out bay wood horn to amplify his speech. “I am sorry we missed that large one yesterday, Sur Sceaf. We’ll try for it again today. Gotta be out there somewhere!”

  Sur Sceaf grabbed his own horn and answered back. “No matter, it was good training and preparation.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t have happened. It was a costly loss.”

  As the Raven passed the Honey Bee heading toward shore according to the plan, Sur Sceaf understood Raven’s Tongue’s frustration with the inexperience of the crews.

  Fromer and Elijah were just getting ready to take their turns rowing when Fromer looked up and shouted. “But we wouldn’t have lost him yesterday if thou hadst kept pace. That telleth me, thou dost not know what thou art doing, and we’re going to get killed out here. The Leviathan is God’s creature and I don’t want to be swallowed by it.”

  Hartmut slid his fir oar out the oarlock and as he took up his seat said, “That’s pure nonsense. A whale could never swallow a man.”

  “Well it’s in the Holy Book.” Fromer scoffed. “Besides if we fail again, it will be a sign that God doth not approve. And we might as well scratch all this sea business right now.”

  Sur Sceaf turned to Elf Beard. “What do you say, master of the hunt?”

  Elf Beard gritted his teeth and glared at Fromer. “We almost had Big Nick yesterday. Here’s what I’d do. The Honey Bee would lead and go out on the Whale Road on a southwesterly course, while the Raven would stay closer toward shore at first. That way we can maintain visual contact from a great distance. We could then drive the whales toward the shore where the Raven could do the interception and killing so that the whales will be more easily beached. That way, we won’t have to wait for the mother ship that slowed us down yesterday. Raven’s Tongue said this venture could take us up to a fortnight to complete. If the sea god is with us, we’ll spot a pod sooner than that. Some can sleep while others row. So, to the hunt! That’s my two pence on the matter.”

  Sur Sceaf thought for a moment. “So be it, master huntsman. Ilkchild and Elf Beard, stand to the fore with me. Rowers, man your oars. Flaggers hold high your banners.”

  Raven’s Tongue acknowledged, “We will fall back and let you take the lead. Remember when you see the whales, prod them with your spears on their flukes and drive them ashore.”

  Raven’
s Tongue ordered the sails raised. The men were so excited, they acted like a pack of drunken teens playing at sea, jumping up and down and screaming in the misty air like kids at the Academy. Spotting the big whale the day before had built their anticipation. Sur Sceaf smiled at the animation of Sunchild, Fairchild, and Black Khem and wished he was that young again. Mere seconds later, as if to emphasize Sur Sceaf’s thoughts, the sun broke through the clouds and bathed their whaler in a brilliant light.

  “Look how Ilkchild’s golden hair burns like a candle in the rays of the sun,” Sunchild pointed out to the other boatmen. “At least, if he falls overboard, he’ll be seen long after the rest of us tawny heads blend and disappear into the kelpie deep.”

  The wind picked up, making for a choppy sea. The first bank of fog lifted and the sea was filled with brilliant reflections of sunlight with sparkles emanating from each break.

  A short time later, while crossing the sea hills, Khem pointed. “It appears your candle has melted over the boat edge, Sunchild.” Ilkchild looked up like a pitiful pup with the contents of the kefir he had for breakfast outlining his lips.

  “I’m not feeling too good, either.” Muryh said, “Oh, I’m sick to my stomach.”

  Sur Sceaf looked and saw Ilkchild heaving the rest of his breakfast over the edge of the ship, sounding for all like the croaking of an old heron. Elf Beard rushed to join him. It seemed as though both Elf Beard and Ilkchild were having trouble adjusting to the sea and great difficulty finding what Raven’s Tongue called their sea legs. On the other hand, Muryh quietly endured his queasiness with skin color ranging from pale to slimy green.

  Mendaka laughed. “Ilkchild, you may call me a red man and Khem a black man, but I have never seen a green man till I laid eyes on you and Muryh.”

  “Oh, Surrey, does anyone ever get used to this?” Ilkchild asked hoarsely.

  “Raven’s Tongue says it takes a while, son. It takes a while.”

  “Had I known it would be this bad I might not have come,” Ilkchild wiped his mouth with his handkerchief, “and to think I cut my Honeymoon short for this. If my feet ever get to firm ground again I’m going to kiss it.”